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1-4 




THE PIRATE, 


THE THREE CUTTERS 


f/tsuJjuijLjcte. 


CAPTAIN MARRYATT. 

a 


COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME. 


SantJftorntou, K. 


PUBLISHED BY CHARLES LANE. 



STEREOTYPED BY ALI.IS05 & FOSTER, 

Concord, N. H. 


S 




THE PIRATE. 

% 


CHAPTER 1. 

THE BAY OF BISCAY. 

It was in tjie latter part of the month of June, of 
the year 179 — , that the angry waves of the bay of 
Biscay were gradually subsiding, after a gale of 
wind as violent as it was unusual during that period 
of the year. Still they rolled heavily 5 and, at times, 
tile wind blew up in fitful angry gusts, as if it would 
lain renew the elemental combat ; but eacli effort 
was more feeble, and the dark clouds which had 
been summoned to the storm, now fled in every 
quarter before the powerful rays of the sun, who 
burst their masses asunder with a glorious flood of 
light and heat : and, as he poured down his resplen- 
dent beams, piercing deep into the waters of that 
portion of the Atlantic to which we now refer,with 
the exception of one object, hardly visible, as at 
creation, there was a vast circumference of water, 
bounded by the fancied canopy of heaven. We 
have said, with the exception of one object 5 for in 
the centre of this picture, so simple,yet so sublime, 
composed of the tliree great elements, there was a 
remnant of the fourth. We say a remnant, for it 
was but the hull of a vessel, dismasted, water-log- 
ged, its upper works only floating occasionally 
above the waves, when a transient repose from their 
still violent undulation permitted it to reassume its 
buoyancy. But tliis was seldom ; one moment it 


4 


THE PIRATE. 


was deluged by the seas, which broke as they pour- 
ed over its gunwale j and the next, it rose from its 
submersion, as the water escaped from the port- 
holes at its sides. 

How many thousands of vessels — how many mill- 
ions of property — have been abandoned, and event- 
ually consigned to the all-receiving depths of the 
ocean, through ignorance or through fear ! What a 
mine of wealth must lie buried in its sands, what 
riches lie entangled among its rocks, or remain sus- 
pended in its unfathomable gulf, where the com- 
pressed fluid is equal in gravity to that which it en- 
circles, there to remain secured in its embedment 
from corruption and decay, until the destruction of 
the universe, and the return of chaos. Yet im- 
mense as the accumulated loss must be, the major 
part of it has been occasional from an ignorance of 
one of the first laws of nature, that of specific grav- 
ity. The vessel to which we have referred, was, 
to all appearance, in a situation of as extreme haz- 
ard as that of a drowming man clinging to a single 
rope-yarn ; yet in reality, she was more secure from 
descending to the abyss below than many gallantly 
careering on the waters, their occupants dismissing 
all fear, and only calculating upon a quick arrival 
into port. 

The Circassian had sailed from New Orleans, a 
gallant and well-appointed ship, with a cargo, the 
major part of which consisted of cotton. The cap- 
tain was, in the usual acceptation of the term, a 
good sailor 5 the crew were hai-dy and able seamen. 

As they crossed the Atlantic, they had encoun- 
tered tlie gale to which we have referred, were 
driven down into the Bay of Biscay, where, as we 
sliall hereafter explain, the vessel was dismasted, 
and sprang a leak, which baffled all their exertions 
to keep under. It was now five days since the 
frightened crew had quitted the vessel in two of 
her boats, one of which had swamned. and r-verv 


THE PIRATE. 


5 


soul that occupied it had perished •, the fate of the 
other was uncertaiu. 

We said that the crew had deserted the vessel, 
but we did not assert that every existing being had 
been removed out of her. Had such been the case, 
we should not have taken up the reader’s time in 
describing inanimate matter. It is life that we por- 
tray, and life there still Avas, in the shattered hull 
thus abandoned to the mockery of the ocean. In 
the caboose of the Circassian, that is, in the cook- 
ing house, secured on deck, and which forcunately 
had been so well fixed as to resist the force of the 
bniaking waves, remained three beings — a man, a 
woman, and a child. The two first mentioned were 
of that inferior race AVhich have, for so long a peri- 
od, been procured from the sultry Afric coast, to 
toil, but reap not for themselves j the child which 
lay at the breast of the female Avas of European 
blood, noAV, indeed, deadly pale, as it attempted in 
vain to draw sustenance from its exhausted nurse, 
doAvn Avhose sable cheeks the tears ccursed, as she 
occasionally pressed the infant to her breast, or 
turned it round to leeward to screen it from the 
spray, Avhich dashed over them at each returning 
sAvell. Indifferent to all else, save her little charge 
she spoke not, although she shuddered with the 
cold, as the Avater Avashed her knees each time that 
the hull was careened into the Avave. Cold and 
terror had produced a change in her complexion, 
Avhich now wore a yelloAV, or sort of copper hue. 

The male, avIio was her companion, sat opposite to 
her upon the iron range, Avhich once had been the 
receptacle of light and heat, but AA’as noAV but a Avea- 
ry seat to a drenched and Avorn-out Avretch. He, 
too, had not spoken for many hours ; Avith the mus- 
cles of his face relaxed, his thick lips pouting far 
in advance of his collapsed cheeks, his high cheek- 
l)oncs, prominent as budding-horns, his eyes dis- 
playing little but their Avbitcs, he appeared to be 


6 


THE PIRATE. 


an object of greater misery than the female, whose 
thoughts M'ere directed to the infant, and not unto 
herself. Yet his feelings were still acute, although 
his faculties appeared to be deadened by excess of 
sufFerering. 

Eh, me !” cried the negro woman faintly, after 
a long silence, her head falling back with extreme 
exhaustion. Her companion made no reply, but, 
roused at the sound of her voice, bent forward, slid- 
ed open the door a little, and looked out to wind- 
■wa.rd. The heavy spray dashed into his glassy 
eyes, and obscured his vision } he groaned, and fell 
back into his former position. “ Wha,t you tink. 
Coco V’ inquired the negress, covering up more 
carefully the child, as she i)ent her h.ead down upon 
it. A look of despair, and a shudder from cold and 
hunger, were the only reply. 

It was then about eight o'clock in the morning, 
and the swell of th.c ocean was fast subsiding. At 
noon the warmth of the sun was communicated to 
them through the planks of the caboo ie, wldle its 
rays poured a small stream of vivid light through 
tlie chinks of the closed panels. The negro ap- 
peared gradually to revive : at last he rose, and with 
some difficulty contrived again to slide open the 
door. The sea had gradually decreased its violence, 
and but occasionally broke over the vessel; care- 
fully holding on l)y the door-jambs. Coco , gained 
the outside that he might survey the horizon. 

“ What you see, Coco?’’ said the female, observ- 
ing from the caboose that his eyes were fixed upon 
a certain quarter. 

''So help me Gcfi, me link me see something; 
but ah so much salt water in um eye, mo no see 
clear,” replied Coco, rubbing away the salt, which 
had crystalized on his face during the morning. 

" What you tink um like Coco?” 

" Only one bit cloud,” replied he, entering the 
caboose, and resuming his seat upon the grate avith 
a heavy sigh. 


THE PIRATE. 


7 


“ Eh, me V’ cried the negress, who had uncover- 
ed the child to look at it, and Avhose powers were 
sinking fast. “ Poor lilly massa Eddard, him look 
very bad indeed — him die very soon, me fear. Look, 
Coco, no ab breath." 

The child’s head fell back from the breast of its 
nurse, and life appeared to be extinct. 

“ Judy you no ab milk for piccaninny 5 suppose 
ura no ab milk, how can live? Eh? stop, Judy, me 
put lilly finger in um mouth 3 suppose massa Ed- 
dard no dead, him pull." 

Coco inserted his finger into the child’s mouth, 
and felt a slight draAVing pressure. “ Judy," cried 
Coco, “ massa Eddard no dead yet. Try noAv, sup- 
pose you ab lilly drop oder side." 

Poor Judy shook her head mournfully, and a tear 
rolled doAvn her cheek ; she was aware that nature 
Avas exhausted. “ Coco," said she, wiping her 
cheek Avith the back of her hand, “ me give me 
heart blood for massa Eddard 5 but no ab milk — all 
gone." 

This forcible expression of love for the child, 
Avhich was used by Judy, gave an idea to Coco. 
He dreAv his knife out of his pocket, and very cool- 
ly saAved to the bone of his fore-finger. The blood 
flowed and trickled doAvn to the extremity, Avhich 
he applied to the mouth of the infant. 

“ See, Judy, massa Eddard suck — him not dead," 
cried Coco, chuckling at the fortunate result of the 
experiment, and forgetting, at the moment, their 
almost hopeless situation. 

The child, revived by the strange sustenance, 
gradually recovered its poAvers, and in a feAv min- 
utes it pulled at the finger Avitli a certain degree of 
vigor. 

Look, Judy, hoAv massa Eddard take it," con- 
tinued Coco. “ Pull aAvay, massa Eddard, pull 
aAvay Coco ab ten finger, and take long Avhile 
suck em all dry." But the child Avas soon satisfied, 
and fell a,sleep in the arms of .ludy. 


THE PIRATE. 


“ Coco, suppose you go see again,” observed Judy. 
The negro again crawled out, and again he scanned 
the horizon. 

So help me God, this time me tink, Judy— 
yes, so help me God, me see a ship !” cried Coco 
joyfully. 

“ Eh !” screamed,Judy faintly ,with delight ; ^'den 
massa Eddard no die.” 

‘‘Yes, so help me God — he come dis way!” and 
Coco who appeared to have recovered a portion of 
his former strength, clambered on the top of the 
caboose, where he sat, cross-legged, waving his yel- 
low handkerchief, with the hope of attracting the 
attention of those on board 5, for he knew that it 
was very possible that an object floating little more 
than a level with the water’s surface, might escape 
notice. 

As it fortunately happened, the frigate, — for such 
she was,— continued her course precisely for the 
wreck, although it had not been perceived by the 
look-out men at the mast-heads, whose eyes had 
been directed to the line of the horizon. In less 
than an hour, our little party were threatened with 
a new danger, that of being run over by the frigate, 
which was now within a cable’s length of them, 
driving the seas before her in one widely extended 
foam, as she pursued her rapid and impetuous 
course. Coco shouted to his utmost, and fortunate- 
ly attracted the notice of the men who were on the 
bo\ysprit stowing away the foretopmast-staysail, 
which had been hoisted up to dry after the gale. 

“Starboard, hard!” was roared out. 

“ Starboard it is ” was the reply from tlie quar- 
ter-deck, and the helm was shifted without inquiry 
as it always is on board a man-of-war, although, at^ 
the same time, it behooves people to be °rather 
careful hovy they pass such an order, without being 
prepared with a subsequent and most satisfactory 
explanation. ’’ 


THE PIRATE. 


9 


The topmast studding-sail flapped and fluttered, 
the foresail shivered, and the jib filled, as the frig- 
ate rounded to, narrowly missing the wreck, which 
wa.s now under the bows, rocking so violently in 
the white foam of the agitated waters, that it was 
with difficulty that Coco could, by clinging to the 
stump of the mainmast, retain his elevated position. 
The frigate shortened sail, hove to, and lowered 
down a quarter-boat, and in less than five minutes, 
Coco, Judy, and the infant, were rescued from their 
awful situation. Poor Judy, who had borne up 
against all for the sake of the child, placed it in 
the arms of the officer who relieved them, and then 
fell back in a state of insensibility j in which condi- 
tion she was carried on board. Coco, as he took 
his place in the stern-sheets of the boat, gazed 
wildly around him, and then broke out into peals 
of extravagant laughter, which continued without 
intermission, and were the only replies which he 
could give to the interrogatories of the quarter- 
deck, until he fell down in a swoon, and was in- 
trusted to the care of the surgeon. 


CHAPTER IT. 

THE BACHELOR. 

On the evening of the same day on which the 
child and the two negroes had been saved from the 
wreck by the fortunate appearance of the frigate, 
Mr. Witherington, of Finsbury-square, was sitting 
alone in his dining-room, wondering what could 
have become of the Circassian, and why he had not 
received inte!ligeri''o of her amval. Mr. Wither- 


10 


THE PIEvATE. 


ington, as we said before, was alone ; I'.e had lus 
port and liis sherry before him 5 and although the 
weather was rather warm, there was a small lire in 
the grate, because, as Mr. Witheriu Tton asserted, 
it looked comfortable. Mr. Witherington, having 
watched the ceiling of the room for some time, al- 
though there was certainly nothing new to be dis- 
covered, filled another glass of wine, and then pro- 
ceeded to make liimself more comfortable by un- 
buttoning three more buttons of his waistcoat, push- 
ing his wig farther back off his head, and casting 
loose all the buttons at the knees of his breeches ; 
he completed Ids arrangements by dragging towards 
him two chairs within ids reach, putting Ids legs 
upon one, while he rested his arm upon the ctlicr : — 
^nd why was not Mr. Witherington to make liim- 
self comfortable 1 He had good health, a good con- 
science, and eight thousand a year. 

Satisfied with all his little arrangements, Mr. 
AVitherington sipped his port wine, and putting 
down Ids glass again, fell back in his chair, placed 
Ids hands on his breast, interwove his fingers ; and, 
in this most comfortable position, re-commenced 
liis speculations as to the non-arrival of the Cir- 
cassian. 

We will leave him to Ids cogitations, while we 
introduce him more particularly to our readers. 

The father of Mr. Witherington was a younger 
son of one of the oldest and proudest families in 
the West Riding of Yoikshire. He liad his choice 
of the four professions allotted to younger sons 
whose veins are filled with patrician blood — the ar- 
my, t'nc navy, the lav/, and the c’nurch. The army 
did not suit 1dm, he said, as marching and counter- 
marching were not comfortable 5 the navy did not 
suit him, as there was little comfort in gales of 
wind and mouldy biscuit 3 the law did nut suit him, 
as he was not sure that he v.'oukl be at case witli 
his co.asedence, which would not be comfortable ; 


THE PIRATE. 


11 


the church was also rejected, as it was, with liim, 
connected with the idea of a small stipend, hard 
duty, a wife and eleven children, which v/ere any 
thin^ but comfortable. Much to the horror of his 
family, he eschewed all the liberal professions, and 
embraced the offer of an old backslider of an uncle, 
who proposed to him a situation in his bankin^r- 
house, and a partnership as soon as he deserved it. 
The consequence was, that his relations bade him 
an indignant farewell, and then made no further in- 
quiries about him : he was as decidedly cut as one 
of the female branches of the family would have 
been had she committed a faiix pas. 

Nevertheless, Mr. Witherin gton senior stuck dil- 
igently to his business, in a few years was a partner, 
and, at the death of the old gentleman, his uncle, 
found himself in possession of a good property, and 
every year coining money at his bank. 

Mr. Witherington senior then purchased a house 
in Finsbury-square, and thought it advisable to look 
out for a wife. 

Having still much of the family pride in his com- 
position, he resolved not to muddle the blood of 
the Witheringtons by any cross fromCateaton-street, 
or Mincing-lane ; and after a proper degree of re- 
search, he selected the daughter of a Scotch earl, 
who went to London with, a bevy of nine in a I.eith 
smack to barter blood for wealth. Mr. Withering- 
ton being so fortunate as to be the first-corner, had 
the pick of the nine ladies by courtesy ; his choice 
was light-haired, blue-eyed, a little freckled, and 
very tall, by no means bad looking, and standing on 
the list in the family Bible No. IV. From this 
union Mr. Witherington had issue 5 first, a daugh- 
ter, christened Moggy, wliom w'c shall soon have 
to introduce to our reader as a spinster of forty- 
seven ; and, second, .Anthony Ale.xander Wither- 
ington, esquire, whom we just now have loft in a 
very comfortable po.sition,and in a very brown study. 


12 


THE PIRATE. 


Mr. Witherington senior persuaded his son to 
enter the banking-house 5 and, as a dutiful son, he 
entered it every day, but he did nothing more, hav- 
ing made the fortunate discovery that ''his fhther 
was born before him 3'' or, in other words, that his 
father had plenty of money, and would be necessi- 
tated to leave it behind him. 

As Mr. Witherington senior had always studied 
comfort, his son had early imbibed the same idea, 
and carried his feelings, in that respect, to a much 
greater excess ; he divided things into comfoi-table 
and uncomfortable. One line day, lady Mary With- 
erington, after paying all the household bills, paid 
the debt of nature ; that is, she died : her husband 
paid the undertaker’s bill, so it is to be presumed 
that she was buried. 

Mr. Witherington senior shortly afterwards had 
a stroke of apoplexy, which knocked him down. 
Death who has no feelings of honor, struck him 
when down. And Mr. Witherington, after having 
laid a few days in bed, was, by a second stroke, 
laid in the same vault as lady Mary Witherington ; 
and Mr. Witherington junior, (our Mr. Withering- 
ton,) after deducting 40,0001. for his sister’s fortune, 
found himself in possession of a clear 8,000/. per 
annum, and an excellent house in Finsbury -square. 
Mr. Witherington considered this a comfortable 
income, and he therefore retired altogether from 
business. 

During the lifetime of his parents, he had been 
witness to one or two matrimonial scenes, which 
had induced him to put down matrimony as one of 
the things not comfortable : therefore, he remained 
a bachelor. 

His sister Moggy also remained unmarried ; but 
whether it were from a very unprepossessing squint 
which deterred suitors, or from the same dislike to 
matrimony as her brother had imbibed, it is not in 
our power to say. Mr. Witherington was three 


THE PIRATE. 


13 


years younger than his sister 5 and, althougli he had 
for some time worn a wig, it was only because he 
considered it more comlbrtable. Mr. Withering- 
ton’s whole character might be summed up in two 
words — eccentricity and benevolence : eccentric he 
certainly was, as most bachelors usually are. Man 
is but a rough pebble without the attrition received 
from contact with the gentler sex : it is wonderful 
how the ladies pumice a man down into a smooth- 
ness which occasions him to roll over and over with 
the rest of his species, jostling but not wounding his 
neighbors, as the waves of circumstance bring him 
into collision with them. 

Mr. Witherington roused liimself from his deep 
revery, and felt for the string connected with the 
bell-pull, which it was the butler’s duty invariably 
to attach to the arm of his master’s chair, previous 
to his last exit from the diniiig-room 5 for, as Mr. 
Witherington very truly observed, it was very un- 
comfortable to be obliged to get up and ring the 
bell : indeed, more than once Mr. Witherington had 
calculated the advantages and disadvantages of hav- 
ing a daughter about eight years old, who could 
ring the bell, air tlie newspapers, and cut the leaves 
of a new novel. 

When, however, he called to mind that she could 
not always remain at that precise age, he decided 
that the "balance of comfort was against it. 

Mr. Witherington having pulled the bell again, 
fell into a brown study. 

Mr. Jonathan, the butler, made his appearance ; 
but observing that his master was occupied, he im- 
mediately stopped at the door, erect, motionless, 
and with a face as melancholy as if he was perform- 
ing mute at the porch of some departed peer of the 
realm 5 for it is an understood thing that the great- 
er the r.ank of the defunct, the longer must be the 
face, and of course, the better must be the pay. 

?vow, a.s Mr. Witherington is still in profound 


14 


THE PIRATE. 


thought, and Mr. Jonathan will stand as long as a 
hackney-coach horse, we will just leave them as 
they are, while we introduce the brief history of 
the latter to our readers. Jonathan Trapp had serv- 
ed as footboy, which term we believe, is derived 
from those who arc in that humble capacity receiv- 
ing a qxiaiitum stiff, of the application of the feet of 
those above them to increase the energy of tlieir 
service ; then as i'ootman, which implies that they 
have been promoted to the more agreeable right 
of administering instead of receiving the above dis- 
honorable applications ; and lastly, for promotion 
could go no higlier in the family, he had been raised 
to the dignity of butler in the service of Mr. With- 
erington senior. Jonathan then fell in love, for 
butlers are guilty of indiscretions as well as their 
masters ; neither he nor his fair flame, who was a 
lady’s maid in another family, notwithstanding that 
they had witnessed the consequences of this enor 
in others, would take warning : they gave warning, 
and they married. 

Like most butlers and ladies’ maids who pair off, 
they set up a public house 5 and it is but justice to 
the lady’s maid to say, that she would have prefer- 
red an eating-house, but was overruled by Jonathan, 
who argued, that although people would drink when 
they were not dry, they never would eat unless tlicy 
were hungry. 

Now, although there was tnith in the observation, 
this is certain, that business did not prosper ; it has 
been surmised that Jonathan’s tall, lank, lean figure, 
injured his custom, as people are but too much in- 
clined to judge of the goodness of the ale by the 
rubicund face and rotundity of the landlord 5 and 
therefore inferred that there could be no good beer 
where mine host was the picture of famine. There 
certainly is much in appearances in this world ; and 
it appears, that in consequence of Jonathan’s ca- 
daverous appearance, he very soon appeared in the 


THE PIRATE. 


15 


gazette ; but what ruined Jonathan in one profes- 
sion procured him immediate employment in an- 
other. An appraiser, upholsterer, and undertaker, 
who was called in to value the lixtures, fixed his 
eye upon Jonathan, and knowing the value of his 
peculiarly lugubrious appearance, and having a half- 
brother of equal height, offered him immediate em- 

E loyrnent as a mule. Jonathan soon forgot to mourn 
is own loss of a few hundreds in his new occupa- 
tion of mourning the loss of thousands ; and nis 
erect stiff', statue-like carriage, and long melancho- 
ly face, as he stood at the portals of those who had 
entered the portals of the next world, were but too 
often a sarcasm upon the grief of the inheritors. 
Even grief is worth nothing in this trafficking world 
unless it is paid for. Jonathan buried many, and at 
last buried his wife. So far all was well 3 but at 
last he buried his master, the undertaker, which 
was not quite so desirable. Although Jonathan 
wept not, yet did he express mute sorrow as he 
marshalled him to his long home, and drank to his 
memory in a pot of porter as he returned from the 
funeral, perched with many others, like carrion 
crows, on the top of the hearse. 

And now Jonathan w'as thrown out of employ- 
ment from a reason which most people would have 
thought the highest recommendation. Every un- 
dertaker refused to take him, because they could 
not match him. In this unfortunate dilemma, Jon- 
athan thought of Mr. Witiierington junior 5 he had 
served and he had buried Mr. Withcringtoii his fa- 
ther, and lady Mary his mother 3 he felt that he 
had strong claims for such variety of services, and 
he applied to the bachelor. Fortunately for Jona- 
than, Mr. VViinermgton’s butler-incumbent w'as just 
about to commit the same folly as Jonathan had 
done before, and Jonathan was again installed, re- 
solving in his own mind to lead his former life, and 
have nothing more to do with laidies' maids. But 


16 


THE pirate. 


from liabit Jonathan still canned himself as a mute 
on all ordinary occasions — never indulging in an 
approximation to mirth, except when he perceived 
tliat his master was in high spirits, and then rather 
from a sense of duty than from any real hilarity of 
heart. 

Jonathan was no mean scholar for his station in 
life, and during his service with the undertaker, he 
had acquired the English of all the Latin mottoes 
which are placed upon the hatchments j and these 
mottoes wheii he considered them as apt, he was 
very apt to quote. We left Jonathan standing at 
the door ; he had closed it, and the handle still re- 
mained in his hand. “ Jonathan,” said Mr. With- 
erington, after a long pause — “ 1 wish to look at the 
last letter from New York, you will find it on my 
dressing-table.” 

Jonathan quitted the room without reply, and 
made his reappearance with the letter. 

“ It is a long time that 1 have been expecting this 
vessel, Jonathan,” observed Mr. Witherington, un- 
folding the letter. 

“■ Y es, sir, a long while 5 tempuj fiigii/’ replied 
the butler in a low tone, half shutting his eyes. 

“ I hope to God no accident has happened,” con- 
tinued Mr. Witherington 5 “ my poor little cousin 
and her twins, e’en now that 1 speak, they may be 
all at the bottom of the sea.” 

Yes, sir,” replied the butler; ''the sea defrauds 
many an honest undertaker of his profits.” 

"By the blood of the Witheringtons ! I may be 
left without an heir, and shall be obliged to marry, 
wliich would be very uncomfortable.” 

" Very little comfort,” echoed Jonathan — "my 
avife is dead. In codo quies.’^ 

" Well, we must hope for the best : but this sus- 
};ense is any thing but comfortable,” observed Mr. 
Whtherington, after looking over tlm contents of 
the letter for at least the twentieth time. 


THE PIRATE. 


n 


“That will do, Jonathan; I’ll ring for coffee 
presently and Mr. Witherington was again alone 
and with his eyes fixed upon the ceiling. 

A cousin of Air. Witherington, and a veiy great 
favorite, (for Air. Witherington having a large for- 
tune, and not liaving any thing to do with business, 
v/as courted by his relations,) liad, to a certain de- 
gree, committed herself; that is to say, that, not- 
withstanding the injunctions of her parents, she had 
fallen in love with a young lieutenant in a march- 
ing regiment, whose pedegree was but respectable, 
and whose fortune was any thing but respectable, 
consisting merely of a subaltern’s pay. Poor men 
unfortunately always make love better than those 
who are rich, because, having less to care about, 
and not being puffed up with their own consequence 
they are not so selfish, and think much more of the 
lady than of themselves. — Young ladies, also, who 
fall in love, never consider whether there is suffi- 
cient to make the pot boil ” — probably because 
young ladies in love lose their appetites, and not 
feeling inclined to eat at that time, they imagine 
that love will always supply the want of food. TSow, 
we appeal to the married ladies w'hether we are not 
right in asserting, that, although the collation spread 
for them and their friends on the day of the mar- 
riage is looked upon with almost loathing, they do 
not find their appetites return with interest soon af- 
terwards. This was precisely the case with Cici- 
lia Witherington, or rather Cicilia Templemore, 
for she changed her name the day before. It was 
also the case with her husband, who always had a 
good appetite, even during his days of courtship ; 
and the consequence was, that the messman’s ac- 
count, for they lived in barracks, was, in a few 
v.'eeks, rather alarming. Cicilia applied to her fam- 
ily, v.'ho very kindly sent her word that she might 
starve ; but the advice neither suiting her nor her 
cusband, she then wrote to her cousin Antlxo^" 


18 


THE PIRATE. 


who sent her word that he should be most happy 
to receive them at his table, and that th^ should 
take up their abode in Finsbury -square. This was 
exactly what they wished 3 but still there was a cer- 
tain difficulty — Lieut. Templemore’s regiment was 
quartered in a town in Yorkshire, which was some 
trifling distance from Finsbury-square, and to be at 
Mr. Witherington’s dinner-table at si.x p. m., with 
the necessity of appearing at parade every morning 
at nine A. M., was a dilemma not to be got out of. 
Several letters were interchangec^on this knotty 
subject 3 and at last it was agreed that Mr. Tem- 
plemore should sell out, and come up to Mr. With- 
erington’s with his pretty wife ; he did so, and 
found that it was much more comfortable to turn 
out at nine o’clock in the morning to a good break- 
fast than to a martial parade. But Mr. Temple- 
more had an honest pride and independence of 
char.acter which would not permit him to eat tlie 
bread of idleness, and, after a sojourn of two months 
in most comfortable quarters without a messman’s 
bill, he frankly stated ins feelings to Mr. Wither- 
ington, and requested his assistance to procure for 
himself an honorable livelihood. Mr. Withering- 
ton, who had become attached to them both, would 
have remonstrated, observing that Cicilia was his 
own cousin, and that he was a confirmed bachelor ; 
but, in this instance, Mr. Templemore was firm, 
and Mr. Witherington very unwillingly consented. 
A mercantile house of the highest respectability re- 
quired a partner who could superintend their con- 
signments to America. Mr. Witherington advanc- 
ed the sum required 3 and, in a few weeks, Mr. and 
Mrs. Templemore sailed for New York. 

Mr. Templemore was active and intelligent 5 
their affairs prospered 3 and, in a few years, they 
anticipated a return to their native soil with a com- 
petence. But the autumn of the second year after 
their arrival proved very sickly 5 the yellow fever 


THE PIRATE. 


19 


raged ; and. among the thousands who were carri- 
ed off, Mr. Templemore was a victim, about three 
weeks after his wife had been brought to bed of 
twins. Mrs. Templemore arose from her coucli a 
widow and the mother of two fine boys. Tlie loss 
of Mr. Templemore was replaced by the establisli- 
ment wdth which he was connected, and Mr. With- 
erington offered to his cousin that asylum which, 
in her mournful and unexpected bereavement, she 
so much required. In three months lier affairs 
were arranged j^ and, willi her little boys lianging at 
the breasts of two negro nurses, for no others could 
be procured who would undertake the voyage, Mrs. 
Templemore, with Coco as a male servant, em- 
barked on board of the good ship Circassian, A. I., 
bound to Liverpool. 


CHAPTER III. 

THE GALE, 

Those who, standing on the pier, had witnessed 
the proud bearing of the Circassian as she gave her 
canvass to tlie winds, little contemplated her fate : 
still less did those on board j for confidence is the 
cliaracteristic of se.amen, and they have the liappy 
talent of imp.arting their confidence to 'vliomever 
may be in their company. We shall poss over the 
voyage, confining ourselves to a description of the 
catastrophe. 

It was during a gale from the norlh-vrest w1j!^-]i 
liad continued for three days, and by which the Cir- 
cassian had been driven into the bay of Biscay, that, 
at ab.out twelve o’plock at night, a slight lull w;iri 


20 


THE PIRATE. 


perceptible. The Captain, who had remained on 
deck, sent down for the chief mate. '' Oswald.” 
said captain Ingram, ‘Hhe gale is breaking, and I 
think before morning we shall have liad the w'orst 
of it. I shall lie down for an hour or two j call me 
if there be any change.” 

Oswald Bareth, a tall, sine^vy-built, and handsome 
specimen of transatlantic growth, examined the 
whole circumference of the horizon before l.e re- 
plied. At last his eyes w'ere steadily fixed to lee- 
ward: “Fve a notion not, sir,” said he, *'! see no 
signs of clearing off, to leew'ard ; only a lull for re- 
lief, and a fresh hand at the bellows, depend upon 
it.” 

We have now' had it three days,” replied cap- 
tain Ingram, “ and that’s the life of a siunmer’s 
gale.” 

“Yes,” rejoined the mate; “but always provided 
that it don’t blow back again. I don’t like the look 
of it, sir; and have it back we shall, as sure as 
there’s snakes in Virginny.” 

“Well, so be if so be;” was the safe reply of the 
captain. “You must keep a sharp look-out, Bar- 
eth, and don’t leave the deck to call me; send a 
hand down.” 

The captain descended to his cabin. Osw'ald 
looked at the compass in the bittacle — spoke a 
few w'ords to the man at the helm — gave one or 
two terrible kicks in the ribs of some of the men 
who were caulking — sounded tlie pump-well — 
put a fresh quid of tobacco into his check, and then 
proceeded to examine the heavens above. A cloud, 
much darker and more descending than the others 
which obscured the firmament, spread over the 
zenith, and based itself upon the horizon to leew’ard. 
Osw'ald’s eye had been fixed upon it but a few sec- 
onds, when he beheld a small lambent gleam of 
lightning pierce through the most opaque part; 
then another, and more viyid. Of a sudden the 


THE PIRATE. 


21 


wind lulled, and the Circassian righted from her 
careen. Again the wind liovvled — and again the 
vessel was pressed down to her bearings by its 
force : again anotlier flash of liglitning, which'was 
followed by a distant peal of thunder.” 

‘^Ilad the worst of it, did you say, captain? I've 
a notion that the worst is yet to come,” muttered 
Oswald, still watching the heavens. 

How does she carry her helm, Matthew V’ in- 
quired Oswald, walking aft. 

“ Spoke a-weatlier."' 

“ I’ll liave that trysail off her, at any rate,” con- 
tinued the mate. ^'Aft, tliere, my lads! and lower 
down the trysail. Keep the sheet fast till it’s down, 
or the flogging w'ill frighten the lady-passenger out 
of her wits. Well, if ever I own a craft. I'll have 
no women on board. Dollars shan’t tempt me.” 

The lightning now played in rapid forks 5 and tlie 
loud thunder, which instantaneously followed eac’i 
flash, proved its near approach. A deluge of slant- 
ing rain descended — the wind lulled • — roared 
again — then lulled — shifted a point or twm, and 
the drenched and heavy sails flapped. 

“ Up with the helm. Mat!” cried Oswald, as a near 
flash of lightning for a moment blinded, and tlic ac- 
companying peal of tliunder deafened, those on 
deck. Again the wind blew strong — it ceased, 
and it was a dead calm. The sails hung down from 
the yards, and the rain descended in pcrpcndicuhir 
torrents, wliilc the ship rocked to a)id fro in tlm 
trough of the sea, and the darkness became sud- 
denly intense. 

“ Down, there, one of you ! and call the captain,” 
said Oswald. “ By the Lord ! wo shall liave it. 
Main braces, there, man, and square the yards. Be 
smart! That topsail sliould have been in,” mutter- 
ed the mate; ‘M)ut I’m not captain. Sijuarc away 
the yards, my lads!” continued he; quick, quick! 
—there’s no child’s play hers ! ” 


22 


THE PIRATE. 


Owing to the difficulty of finding and passing the 
ropes to each other, from the intensity of the dark- 
ness, and the deluge of rain which blinded them, 
the men were not able to execute the order of the 
mate so soon as it was necessary ; and, before they 
could accomplish their task, or captain Ingram 
could gain the deck, the wind suddenly burst upon 
the devoted vessel from the quarter directly oppo- 
site to that from which the gale had blown, taking 
her all a-back, and throwing her on her beam-ends. 
The man at the helm was hurled over the wheel j 
while the rest, who were with Oswald at the main- 
bits, with the coils of ropes and every other article 
on deck, not secured, were rolled into the scuppers, 
struggling to extricate themselves from the mass 
of confusion and the water in which they flounder- 
ed. The sudden revulsion awoke all the men be- 
low^, who imagined that the ship was foundering 5 
and, from the only hatchway not secured, they 
poured up in their shirts, with their other garments 
in their hands, to put them on — if fate permitted. 

Osw'ald Bareth was the first who clambered up 
from to Icew'ard. He gained the helm, which he 
put hard up. Captain Ingram and some of the sea- 
men also gained the helm. It is the rendezvous of 
all good seamen in emergencies of this description ; 
but the howling of the gale, — the blinding of the 
rain and salt spray — the seas checked in their run- 
ning by shift of wind, and breaking over the ship in 
vast masses of water — the tremendous peals of 
thunder — and the intense darkness which accom- 
panied these horrors, added to the inclined position 
of the vessel, which obliged them to climb from 
one part of the deck to another, for some time 
checked all profitable communication. Their only 
friend, in this conflict of the elements, w'as the 
lightning, (unhappy, indeed, the situation in which 
lightning can be welcomed as a friend !) but its viv- 
id and forked flames, darting down upon every 


THE PIPETE. 


23 


quarter of the horizon, enabled them to perceive 
their situation 5 and, awful as it was, when mo- 
mentarily presented to their sight, it was not so 
awful as darkness and uncertainty. To those who 
have been accustomed to the difficulties and dan- 
gers of a seafaring life, there are no lines which 
speak more forcibly to the imagination, or prove 
the beauty and power of the Greek poet, than those 
in the noble prayer of Ajax. 

“Lord of earth and air, 

Oking! O father ! hear my humble prayer. 
Dispel this cloud, the light of heaven restore j 
Give me to see — and Ajax asks no more. 

If Greece must perish — we thy will obey : 

But let us perish in the face of day 

Oswald gave the helm to two of the seamen, 
and with his knife cut adrift the axes, which were 
lashed around the mizenmast, in painted canvass 
covers. One he retained for himself, — the others 
he put into the hands of the boatswain and the se- 
cond mate. To speak so as to be heard was almost 
impossible, from the tremendous roaring of the 
wind 5 but the lamp still burned in the bittacle, 
and, by its feeble light, captain Ingram could dis- 
tinguish the signs made by the mate, and could 
give his consent. It was necessary that the ship 
should be put before the wind, and the helm had 
no power over her. In a short time the lanyards 
of tlie mizen-rigging were severed, and the mizen- 
mast went over the side, almost unperceived by the 
crew on the other parts of the deck, or even those 
near, had it not been from blows received by those 
who were too close to it, from the falling of the 
topsail-sheets and the rigging about the mast. 

Oswald with his companions regained the bitta- 
cle, and for some little while watched the compass. 
The ship did not pay off, and appeared to settle 
down more into the water. Again Oswald made 


24 


THE PIRATE. 


his signs, and again the captain gave his assent. 
Forward sprang the undaunted mate, clinging to 
the bulwark and belay ing-pins, and followed by his 
hardy companions, until they had all .three gained 
the main-channels. Here their exposure to the 
force of the breaking waves, and the stoutness of 
the ropes yielding but slowly to the blows of the 
axes, which were used almost under water, render- 
ed the service one of extreme difficulty and danger. 
The boatswain was washed over the bulwark and 
dashed to leeward, where the lee-rigging only saved 
him from a watery grave. Unsubdued, he again 
climbed up to windw^artl, rejoined and assisted his 
companions. The last blow was given by Oswald 5 
the lanyards flew through the dead eyes — and the 
tall mast disappeared in the foaming seas. Oswald 
and his companions hastened from their dangerous 
position, and rejoined the captain, who with many 
of the crew, still remained near the wheel. The 
ship now slowly paid off and righted. In a few 
minutes she was flying before the gale, rolling hea- 
vily, and occasionally striking upon the wrecks of 
the masts, which she towed with her by the lee-rig- 
ging. 

Although the wind blew with as much vdolenco 
as before, still it w^as not with the same noise, now 
that the ship was before the wind, with her after- 
masts gone. The next service was to clear the 
ship of the wrecks of the masts j but, although all 
now assisted, but little could be effected until the 
day had dawned, and even then it was a service of 
danger, as the ship rolled gunwale under. Those 
who performed the duty were slung in ropes, that 
they might not be washed away ; and hardly w'as it 
completed, when a heavy roll, assisted by a jerking 
heave from a sea which struck her on the chess- 
tree, sent the foremast over the starboard cat-head. 
Thus was the Circassian dismasted in the gale. 


THE PIRATE. 


25 


CHAPTER IV. 

THE LEAK. 

The wreck of the foremast was cleared from the 
ship 5 the gale continued, but the sun shone bright- 
ly and warmly. The Circassian was again brought 
to tlie wind. All danger was now considered to be 
over } and the seamen joked and laughed as they 
were l)usied in preparing jurymasts to enable them 
to reach their destined port. 

I wouldeii’t have cared so much about this 
spree,” said the boatswain, if it warn’t for the 
mainmast j it was such a beauty ; there’s not anoth- 
er stick to be found equal to it in the whole length 
of the Mississippi.” 

‘^Eah! man,” replied Oswald, “ there’s as good 
fish in the sea as ever came out of it, and as good 
sticks growing as ever were felled ; but I guess 
we’ll pay pretty dear for our spars when w^e get to 
Liverpool — but that concerns the owners.” 

The wind, which, at the time of its sudden change 
to the southward and eastward, had blown with the 
force of a hurricane, now settled into a regular 
strong gale, such as sailors are prepared to meet 
and laugh at. The sky w'as also bright and clear, 
and they had not the danger of a lee shore. It was 
a delightlul change after a night of darkness, dan- 
ger, and confusion j and the men worked that they 
might get sufficient sail on the ship to steady her, 
an^ enable them to shape a course. 

“ I suppose, now that we have the trysail on her 
forward, the captain will be for running for it,” ob- 
served one who was busy turning in a dead eye. 

Yes,” replied the boatswain; '^and with this 
wind on our quarter, we shan’t want much sail, I’ve 
a notion.” 


26 


THE PIRATE. 


'‘Well, then, one advantage in losing your masts, 
you havn’t much trouble about the rigging.’' 

“ Trouble enough, though, Bill, when we get in," 
replied another, gruffly : “ new lower-rigging to 
parcel and sarve,and every block to turn in afresh." 

“ Never mind, longer in port — I’ll get spliced." 

“ Why, how often do you mean to get spliced. 
Bill ? You’ve a wife in every state, to my sartin 
knowledge." 

“I arn’t got one in Liverpool, Jack." 

“Well, you may take one there, Bill j for you’ve 
been sweet upon that nigger girl for these last three 
weeks." 

“ Any port in a storm ; but she won’t do for har- 
bor duty : but the fact is you’re all wrong there. 
Jack. It’s the babies I likes — I likes to see them 
both together hanging at the nigger’s breasts. I al- 
ways thinks of two spider monkeys nursing two 
kittens." 

“ I knows the women, but I never knows the 
children. Its just six of one and a half-a-dozen of 
the other, an’t it, Bill ?" 

“ Yes ; like two bright bullets out of the same 
mould : I say. Bill, did any of your wives ever have 
twins ?" 

“ No; nor I don’t intend, until the ov/ners give 
us double pay." 

“ By-the-by," interrupted Oswald, who had been 
standing under the weather bulk-head listening to 
the conversation, and watching the work in prog- 
ress, “w'e may just as well see if she has made any 
water with all this straining and buffeting. By the 
Lord ! I never thought of that. Carpenter, lay 
down your adze, and sound the well." 

The carpenter, who, notwithstanding tlie uncari- 
ness of the dismasted vessel, was performing his 
important share of the work, immediately complied 
with the order. He drew up the rope-yarn, to 
wliich an iron rule had been suspended, and lo^v- 


THE PIRATE. 


27 


ered down into the pump-well, and perceived that 
the water was dripping from it. Imagining that it 
must have been wet from the quantity of water 
shipped over all, the carpenter disengaged the rope- 
yarn from the rule, drev/ anotlier Ifom the junk 
lying on the deck, which the seamen were working 
up, and then carefully proceeded to plumb the well. 
He hauled it up, and,looking at it for some moments 
aghast exclaimed Seven feet water in the hold, 
by G — d !” 

If the crew of the Circassian, the whole of which 
were on deck, had been struck with an electric shock 
the sudden change in their countenances could not 
have been greater than was produced by this appall- 
ing intelligence. 

Heap upon sailors every disaster, every danger 
which can be accumulated from the waves,tl)e wind, 
the elements, or the enemy, and they will bear up 
against them with a courage amounting to heroism. 
All they demand is, that the one plank “ between 
them and death ” is sound, and they will trust to 
theirowm energies,and will be confident in their own 
skill ; but spring a leak, and they are half paralyzed 3 
and if it gain upon them, they are subdued 5 for when 
they find that their exertions are futile,they are little 
better than children. 

Oswald sprang to the pumps, when he heard the 
carpenter’s report. “ Try again, Abel — it cannot 
be : cut away that line 5 hand us here a dry rope- 
yarn ' 

Once more the well was sounded by Oswald, and 
the results were the same. We must rig the 
pumps my lads,” said the mate, endeavoring to con- 
ceal his own fears 5 “ half this water must have found 
its way in her when she was on her beam-ends.” 

This idea, so judiciously thrown out, was caught 
at by the seamen, who hastened to obey tJic order, 
while Oswald went down to acquaint the captaiii, 
who, worn out with watching and fatigue, had, now 


28 


THE PIRATE. 


that danger was considered to be over, thrown hint- 
self into his cot to obtain a few hours’ repose. 

‘•'Do you think, Bareth, that we have sprung a 
leak ?” said tlie captain,earnestly ; “ she never could 
have taken in that quantity of water.” 

“ Never,sir,” replied the mate, “ but she has been 
so strained that she may have opened her top-sides. 
I trust it is no worse.” 

“ What is your opinion then V’ 

“ I am afraid that the wreck of the masts have in- 
jured her ; you may recollect how often we struck 
against them before we could clear ourselves of them; 
once, particularly, the mainmast appeared to be right 
under her bottom I recollect, and she struck very 
heavy on it.” 

“ W ell it is God’s will ; let us get on deck as fast 
as we can.” 

When they arrived on deck, the carpenter walked 
up to the captain, and quietly said to him, “ Seven 
feet three, sir.” The pumps were then in full ac- 
tion; the men had divided, by the directions of the 
boatswain, and stripped naked to the waist, relieved 
eacli other every two minutes. For half an hour 
they labored incessantly. 

This was the half hour of suspense : the great 
point to be ascertained was, whether she leaked 
through the topsides, and had taken in the water dur- 
ing the second gale ; if so, there was every hope of 
keeping it under. Captain Ingram and the mate re- 
mained in silence near the capstern, the former 
with his watch in his hand, during the time that tlie 
sailors e.verted themselves to the utmost. It was ten 
minutes past seven when the half hour had e-xpired ; 
the well was sounded, and the line carefully measur- 
ed — seven feet six inches ! So that the water had gain- 
ed upon them notwithstanding they had plied the 
the pumps to the utmost of their strength. 

A mute look of despair was e.xchanged among the 
crew, but it was followed up by curses and execra- 


THE PIRATE. 29 

tions. Captain Ingram remained silent, with his 
lips compressed. 

Its all over with us !” exclaimed one of the 

men. 

'•Not yet, my lads; we have one more chance,” 
“said Oswald; “I’ve a notion that the sliip’s sides 
have been opened by the infernal straining of last 
night, and that she is now taking it in at the topsides 
generally ; if so, we have only to put her before the 
wind again,and have another good spell at the pumps. 
When no longer strained, as she is now with her 
broadside to the sea, she will close all up again.” 

“ I shouldn’t wonder if Mr. Bareth is not right,” 
replied the carpenter ; “ however, that’s my notion 
too.” 

“ And mine,” added captain Ingram. “ Come my 
men ! never say die while there is a shot in the lock- 
er. Let’s try her again.” And, to encourage the 
men, captain Ingram threw off his coat and assisted 
at the first spell, while Osw.ald went to the helm, and 
put the ship before the wind. 

As the Circassian rolled before the gale, the lazy 
manner in which she righted proved how much wa- 
ter there was in the hold. The seamen exerted them- 
selves for a whole hour without intennission, and the 
well was again sounded — eij^ht feet ! 

The men did not assert that they would pump no 
longer ; but they too plainly showed their intentions 
by each resuming in silence his shirt and jacket, 
which he liad taken off at the commencement of his 
exertions. 

“ What’s to be done, Oswald ?” said captain In 
gram, as they walked aft. “You see the men will 
pump no longer ; nor indeed, would it be of any use. 
\Ye are doomed.” 

“ The Circassian is, sir, I am afraid,” replied the 
mate ; “ pumping is of no avail ; they could not keep 
her afloat till daybreak. We -must, therefore, trust 
to our boats, which 1 believe to be all scund, and 
quit her before night.” 


30 


THE PIRATE. 


Crowded boats in sucli a sea as this!” replied 
captain Ingram, shaking his head mournfully — 

“ Are bad enough, I grant ; but better than the sea 
itself. All we can do now is to try and keep the men 
sober, and if we can do so it will be better than to fa- 
tigue them uselessly 5 they’ll want all their strength 
before they put foot again upon dry land — if ever they 
are so fortunate. Shall I speak to them 

“ Do, Oswald,” replied the captain : “ for myself 
I care little, God knows 5 but my wife — my c'jil- 
dren ?” 

“ My lads,” said Osv.'ald , going forward to the men, 
who had waited in moody silence the result of the 
conference — as for pumping any longer it would be 
only wearing out your strength for iiq good. 
must now look to our boats : and a good boat is better 
than a bad ship. Still, this gale and cross-runniiig 
sea are rather too much for boats at present 5 we ha J 
therefore better stick to the ship as long as we can. 
Let us set to with a will and get the boats rea Iv, with 
provisions, water, and what else may be needful, a 1 J 
then we must trust to God’s mercy and our own cr.- 
deavors.” 

'• j'lo boat can stand this sea,” observed one of tiie 
men 5 I’m 0!’ opinion, as it’s lobe a short life, it m iv 
as well be a merry one. AVhat d’ye say, my lads? ’ 
appealing to the men. 

Several of the crew were of the same opinion : l.'Ut 
Oswald, stepping forward, siezed one of the aves 
which lay at the main-bitts, and going up to the sea- 
man who had spoken, looked liim steadfaslly in th.e 
fiice ; — 

“ Williams,” said the mate, short life it mav 
be to all of us, but not a merry one 5 the meaning 
of which I understand very well. Sorry I shill be 
to have your blood or that of others, on' my ban 1 ; ; 
but as sure as there's a heaven, I’ll edeave to tiie 
shoulder the first min who attem])t 3 to break into 
the spirit-room. You know I never joke. S’lalue 


THE PIRATE. 


31 


upon you ! Do you call yourselves men, when, for 
the sake of a little liquor now you would lose your 
only chance of getting drunk every day as soon as 
we get on shore again ? There’s a time for all 
tilings 5 and I’ve a notion this is a time to be sober.” 

As most of the crew sided with Oswald, the weak- 
er party were obliged to submit, and the prepara- 
tions were commenced. The two boats on the 
booms were found to be in good condition. One 
]:).u-ty was employed cutting away the bulwarks, tliat 
’.he boats miglit be launched over the side, as there 
were no means of hoisting them out. The well 
was again sounded. Nine feet water in the hold, 
and the ship evidently settling fast. Two liou'-s 
hid now passed, and the gale was not so violent ; 
t ie sea, also, which, at the change of wind, had 
been cross, appeared to Jiavc recovered its regular 
run. All was ready 5 the sailors once at v/orh 
again, had, in some measure, recovered their 
snirits, and were buoyed up with fresh hopes at the 
slight change in their favor from the decrease of 
tlie vrind. The two boats were quite large cnoug'i 
to contain the whole of the crew and passenger^ ; 
but, as the sailors s.aid among themselves, (prnvlnj 
the kindness of their hearts,) “ What was to be- 
come of those two poor babbies, in an ope!i boat 
for days and nights, perhaps ?” Captain Ingram 
had gone down to Mrs. Templemore, to impart to 
lier their melancholy prospects ; and the mother's 
heart, as well as the mother’s voice, echoed the 
words of the seamen, W’hat will become of my 
poor babes ?” 

It was not till nearly six o’clock in the ovoni.ag 
that all was ready ; the ship was slowly bi'Oiight to 
the wind again, and the boats launched over Ib.e 
side. By this time tlie gale was much abated 5 but 
the vessel was full of water, and was expected soon 
to go down. 

There is no time in which coolness and deter- 


32 


THE PIRATE. 


mination are more required than in a situation like 
the one which we have attempted to describe. It 
is impossible to know the precise moment at whicli 
a water-logged vessel, in a heavy sea, may go down ; 
and its occupants are in a state of mental fever, 
^vith tlie idea of their remaining in her so late that 
she will suddenly submerge, and leave them to 
struggle in the wave. This feeling actuated many 
of the crew of the Circassian, and they had already 
retreated to the boats. All was arranged 5 Oswald 
had charge of one boat, and it was agreed that the 
lai-ger should receive Mrs. Templemore and her 
children, under tlie protection of captain Ingram. 
The number appointed to Oswald’s boat being com- 
pleted, he shoved off, to make room for the other, 
and laid to to leeward, waiting to keep company. 
Mrs. Templemore came up with captain Ingram, 
and was assisted by him into the boat. The nuree, 
with one child, was at last placed by her side ; 
Coco was leading Judy, the otrier nurse, with the 
remaining infant in lier arms, and captain In- 
gram, who had been obliged to go into the boat 
with the first child, was about I0 return to assist 
Judy with the otlier, when the ship gave a heavy 
pitch, and her forecastle was buried in the wave 5 
at the same time the gunwale of the boat was stove 
by coming in contact with the side of the vessel. 
“ She’s down, by God !” exclaimed the alarmed 
seamen in the boat 5 shoving off to escape from 
the vortex. 

Captain Ingram, who was standing on the boat’s 
thwarts to assist Judy, was thrown back into the 
bottom of the boat ; and, before he could extricate 
himself, the boat was separated from the ship, and 
had drifted to leeward. 

“ My child !” screamed the mother 5 my child !” 

“ Pull to again, my lads !” cried captain Ingram, 
seizing the tiller. 

The men, who had been alarmed at the idea that 


THE PIRATE. 


33 


the ship was going down, now that they saw that 
she was still afloat, got out the oars, and attempted 
to regain her, but in vain — they could not make 
head against the sea and wind. Further and further 
did they drift to leeward, notwithstanding their ex- 
ertions ; while the frantic mother extended her 
arms, imploring and entreating. Captain Ingram, 
who had stimidaled the sailors to the utmost, per- 
ceived that further attempts were useless. 

“ My child ! my child !•' screamed Mrs. Temple- 
more, standing up, and holding out her arms towards 
the vessel. At a sign from the captain, the head 
of the boat was veered around. The bereaved 
mother knew that all hope was gone, and she fell 
down in a state of insensibility. 


CHAPTER V. 

THE OLD MAID. 

One morning, shortly after the disasters which 
we have described, Mr. Witherington descended 
to his breakfast-room somewhat earlier than usual, 
and found his green morocco easy-chair already 
tenanted by no less a personage than William, the 
footman, who, with his feet on the fender, was so 
attentively reading the newspaper that he did not 
hear his master’s entrance. '^By my ancestor, who 
fought on his stumps ! but I hope you are quite 
comfortable, Mr. William j nay, I beg I may not 
disturb you, sir.” 

William, although as impudent as most of his 
fraternity, was a little taken aback : “ I beg your 
3 


34 


THE PIRATE 


pardon, sir, but Mr. Jonathan had not time to look 
over the paper.” 

Nor is it required that he should, that I knov.'^ 
of, sir.” 

“ Mr. Jonathan says, sir, that it is always right to 
look over the deatfis, that news of that kind may 
not shock you.” 

“ Very considerate, indeed !” 

*• And there is a story there, sir, about a sliip- 
wreck.” 

“ A shipwreck ! where, William '! God bless me, 
where is it ?” 

“ i am afraid it is the same ship you are so anx- 
ious about, sir, — the } I forget the name, sir.” 

Mr. VVitherington took the newspaper, and his 
eye soon caught the paragraph in which the rescue 
of the two negroes and child from the wreck of the 
(hreassian was fully detailed. 

“ It is, indeed !” e.xclaimed Mr. Witherington ; 
“ my poor Cecilia in an open boat ! one of the boats 
was seen to go down, — perhaps she’s dead — mer- 
ciful God ! one boy saved. Mercy on me ! where’s 
Jonatiian ?” 

Here, sir,” replied Jonathan, very solemnly, 
who had just brought in the eggs, and now stood 
erect as a mute behind his master’s chair, for it was 
a case of danger if not of death. 

“ I must go to Portsmouth immediately after 
breakfast — shan’t eat though — appetite all gone.” 

“ People seldom do, sir, on these melancholy oc- 
casions,” replied Jonathan ; “will you take your 
own carriage, sir, or a mourning coach ?” 

“ A mourning coach at fourteen miles an hour, 
with two pair of liorses ! Jonathan, you’re ci\azy.” 

“ Will you please to have black silk hatbands 
and gloves for the coachman and servants who at- 
tend you, sir ?” 

“ Confound your shop 1 no 5 this is a resurrection, 
not a death : it appears that the negro thinks only 
one of the boats went down.” 


THE PIRATE. 35 

‘‘Mors omnia vincit,’’ quoth Jonathan, casting up 
his eyes. 

“ Never you mind that ; mind your own business. 
That’s the postman’s knock — see if there are any 
letters.” 

There were several ; and amongst the others, 
there was one from captain Maxwell, of the Eury- 
dicc, detailing the circumstances already known, 
and imforming Mr. Witherington that he had des- 
patched the two negroes and the child to his ad- 
dress by that day’s coach, and that one of the ofn- 
ccre. who was going to town by the same convey- 
ance, would see them safe to his house. 

Captain Maxwell was an old acquaintance of 
hlr. \v’’it!)erington — had dined at his house in com- 
pany with the Templemores, and therefore had ex- 
tracted quite enough information i'rom the negroes 
to know where to direct them. 

By the blood of my ancestors ! they’ll be hero 
to-night,” cried Mr. VVitherington ; “ and I have 
saved my journey. What is to be done ! better 
tell Mary to get rooms ready: d’ye hear, William? 
beds for one little boy and two niggers.” 

“ Yes, sir,” replied William 5 “but where are the 
black people to be put ?’’ 

Put ! 1 don’t care ; one may sleep with cook, 
the other with Mary.’” 

Very well, sir. I’ll tell them,” replied William, 
hastening away, delighted at the row which he an- 
ticipated in the kitchen. 

“ If you please, sir, observed Jonathan, one of 
the negroes is, I believe, a man.” 

“ Well, what then ?” 

“ Only, sir, the maids may object to sleep with 
him.” 

“ By all the plagues of the Witheringtons ! that 
is true ; well you may take him, Jonathan — ^}’ 0 u 
like that colour.” 

“Not in the dark, sir,” replied Jonathan, with 
a bow’. 


36 


THF PIRATE. 


''Well, then, let them sleep together : so, that 
affair is settled.” 

"Are they man and wife' sir ?” said the butler. 

" The devil take them both ! how should I know 1 
let me have my breakfast, and we'll talk over the 
matter by-and-by.” 

Mr. Witherington applied to his eggs and muffin, 
eating his breakfast as fast as he could, without 
knowing why j but the reason was that he was puz- 
zled and perplexed with the anticipated arrival, and 
longed to think quietly over the dilemma, for it was 
a dilemma to an old bachelor. As soon as he had 
swallowed his second cup of tea he put himself in- 
to his easy-chair, in an easy attitude, and was very 
soon soliloquizing as follows ; — 

" By the blood of the Witheringtons i what am 
I, an old bachelor, to do with a baby and a wet- 
nurse as black as the ace of spades, and another 
black fellow in the bargain ? Send him back again ? 
yes, that's best : but the child — ^woke every morn- 
ing at five o'clock with its squalling — obliged to 
kiss it three times a day — pleasant ! and then that 
nigger of a nurse — thick lips — kissing child all day. 
and then holding it out to me — ignorant as a cow — 
if child has the stomach-ache, she'll cram a pep- 
per-pod down its throat — West India fashion — chil- 
dren never without the stomach-ache — my poor, 
poor cousin ! — what has become of her and the oth- 
er child, too ? — wish they may pick her up, poor 
dear ! and then she will come and take care of her 
own children — don't know what to do — great mind 
to send for sister Moggy — ^but she's so fussy — 
won't be in a hurry. Think again.” 

Here Mr. Witherington w'as interrupted by two 
taps on the door. 

" Come in,” said he 5 and the cook with her face 
as red as if she had been dressing a dinner for 
eighteen, made her appearance wimout the usual 
clean apron. 


THE PIRATE. 


37 


If you please, sir,” said she, courtesy ing, “ I 
will thank you to suit yourself with another cook.” 

Oh, very well,” replied Mr. Witherington, an- 
gry at the interruption. 

“ And, if you please, sir, I should like to go this 
very day — indeed, sir, I shall not stay.” 

Go to the devil ! if you please,” replied Mr. 
Witherington, angrily j '^but nrst go out, and shut 
the door after you.” 

The cook retired, and Mr. Witherington was 
again alone. 

Confound the old woman— what a huff she is 
in ! wonft cook for black people, I suppose — ^yes 
that’s it.” 

Here Mr. Witherington was again interrupted by 
a second double tap at the door. 

“ Oh ! thought better of it, 1 suppose. Come in.” 

It was not the cook, but Mary, the housemaid, 
that entered. 

“ If you please, sir,” said she, whimpering, “ I 
should wish to leave my situation.” 

‘•'A conspiracy, by heavens ! Well you mav go.” 

To-night, sir, if you please,” answered tlie wo- 
man. 

This moment, for all 1 care !” exclaimed Mr. 
Witherington in his wrath. 

The housemaid retired ; and Mr. Witherington 
took some time to compose himself. 

Servants all going to the devil in this coun- 
try,” said he at lastj proud fools — won’t clean 
rooms after black people, I suppose — yes, that’s it— 
confound them all, black and white ! here’s my 
whole establishment upset by the arrival of a baby 
— ^well, it is very uncomfortable — what shall I do ? 
— send for sister Moggy? — no. I’ll send for Jona- 
than.” 

Mr. Witherington rang the bell, and Jonathan 
made his appearance. 

What is all this, Jonathan ?” said he j “ cock 


58 


THE PIRATE. 


angry — Mary ciying — both going away — what's 
it all about V’ 

“ Why, sir, they were told by William that it 
was your positive order that the two black people 
were to sleep with them ; and I believe he told 
Mary that the man was to sleep with her.” 

••Confound that fellow! he’s always at misciiief5 
you know, Jonathan, I never meant that.” 

“ I thought not, sir, as it is quite contrary to cus- 
tom,” replied Jonathan. 

Well then tell them so, and let's hear no more 
about it.*’ 

Mr. Witherington then entered into a consulta- 
tion with his butler, and acceded to the arrange- 
ments proposed by him. The pai'ties arrived in 
due time, and were properly accommodated. Mas- 
ter Edward was not troubled with the stomach- 
ache, neither did he wake Mr. Witherington at five 
o’clock in the morning ; and, after all. it was not so 
very uncomfortable. But although things were not 
quite so uncomfortable as Mr. Witherington had 
anticipated, still they were not comfortable ; and 
]Mr. Witherington was so annoyed by continual 
skirmishes between his servants, complaints from 
Judy, in bad English, of the cook, who. it must be 
owned, had taken a prejudice against her and (’oco, 
occasional illness of the child, et cetera, tl^at be 
found his house no longer quiet and peaceable. 
I'ln-ee months had now nearly passed, and no tid- 
ings of the boats had been received ; and captain 
Maxwell, who came up to see Mr. Witherington. 
gave it as his decided opinion that they must have 
foundered in the gale. As, therefore, there appear- 
ed to be no chance of Mrs. Templemore coming 
to take care of her child. Mr. Witherin vton at last 
resolved to write to Bath, where his sister resided, 
and acquaint her with the whole story, requesting 
her to come and superintend his domestic concerns. 
A few days afterwards he received the following 
reply : 


THE PIRATE. 


59 


‘‘Bath, Au^iist. 

“My deak brother Antony, — 

^‘Your letter arrived safe to hand on Wednes- 
day last, and I must say that I was not a little sur- 
prised at its contents ; indeed, I thought so much 
about it that I revoked at lady Betty Blabkin's 
whist-party, and lost four shillings and sixpence. 
You say that you have a child at your house belong- 
ing to your cousin, who married in so indecorous a 
manner. I hope what you say is true 5 but, at the 
same time, I know what bachelors are guilty of 5 
although, as lady Betty says, it is better never to 
talk or even to hint about these improper things. 
1 cannot imagine why men should consider them- 
selves in an unmarried state, as absolved from that 
purity which maidens are so careful to preserve ; 
and so says lady Betty, wath whom I had a little 
conversation on the subject. As, however, the 
thing is done, she agrees with me that it is better 
to hush it uo as well as we can. 

“ 1 presume that you do not intend to make the 
child your heir, which I should consider as highly 
improper 5 and, indeed, lady Betty tells me that 
the legacy duty is ten per cent., and that it cannot 
be avoided. However, 1 make it a rule never to 
talk about these sort of things. As for your request 
that I would come up and superintend your estab- 
lishment, 1 have advised with lady Betty on the 
subject, and she agrees with me that, for the hon- 
or of the family, it is better that I should come, as 
it wall save appearances. You are in a peck of 
troubles as most men are who are free-livers, and 
are led astray by artful and alluring females. How- 
ever, as lady Betty says, ‘the least said the soonest 
mended.’ 

I will, therefore, make the necessary arrange- 
ments for letting my house, aud hope to join you in 
about ten days 5 sooner I cannot, as I find that my 
engagements extend to that period. Many question* 


40 


THE PIRATE. 


have already been put to me on this unpleasant sub- 
ject ; but 1 always give but one answer, which is, 
that bachelors will be bachelors j and that, at all 
events, it is not so bad as if you were a married man 5 
for I make it a rule never to talk about, or even to 
hint about these sort of things, for, as lady Betty says 

men will get into scrapes, and the sooner things 
are hushed up the better.' So no more at present 
from your affectionate sister, 

“ Margaret Witherengton." 

P. S. — Lady Betty and I both agree that you are 
very right in hiring two black people to bring the 
child into your house, as it makes the thing look for- 
eign to the neighbors, and we can keep our own se- 
crets. M. W.” 

“ Now, by all the sins of the Witheringtons, if 
this is not enough to drive a man out of his senses ! — 
Confound the suspicious old maid ! — Fll not let her 
come into this house. Confound la^ Betty, and all 
scandal loving old tables like her ! Bless me !” con- 
tinued Mr. Witherington, throwing the letter on the 
table, with a deep sigh, this is any thing but com- 
fortable." 

But if Mr. Witherington found it any thing but 
comfortable at the commencement, he found it un- 
bearable in the sequel. 

His sister Moggy arrived, and installed herself in 
the house with all the pomp and protecting air of 
one who was the saviour of her brother's reputation 
and character. When the child was first brought 
down to her, instead of perceiving at once its like- 
ness to Mr. Templemore, which was very strong, she 
looked at it and at her brother’s face with her only 
eye, and, shaking her finger, exclaimed — 

Oh, Antony ! Antony ! and did you expect to de- 
ceive me ? — the nose — the mouth exact — Antony, 
for shame ! fie, for shame !" 

But we must hurry over the misery that Mr. 


THE PIRATE. 


41 


Witheringt on's kindness and benevolence brought 
upon him. Not a day passed — scarcely an hour, 
without his ears being galled with his sister's insinu- 
ations. Judy and Coco were sent back to America ; 
the servants, who had remained so long in his serv- 
ice, gave warning one by one, and, afterwards, were 
changed as often almost as there was a change in the 
moon. She ruled the house and her brother despot- 
ically 5 and all poor Mr. Witherington’s comfort was 
gone until the time arrived when master Edward was 
to be sent to school. Mr. Witherington then pluck- 
ed up courage j and, after a few stormy months, 
drove his sister back to Bath, and once more found 
himself comfortable. 

Edward came home during the holydays, and was 
a great favorite 5 but the idea had become current 
that he was the son of the old gentleman, and the re- 
marks made were so unpleasant and grating to him, 
that he was not sorry, much as he was attached to 
the boy, when he declared his intention to choose 
tlie profession of a sailor. 

Captain Maxwell introduced him into the service ; 
and afterwards, when, in consequence of ill health 
and exhaustion, he was himself obliged to leave it 
for a time, he procured for his protege other ships. 
We must, therefore, allow some years to pass away, 
during which time Edward Templemore pursues his 
career — Mr. Witherington grows older and more 

f >articular, and his sister Moggy amuses herself with 
ady Betty's remarks, and her darling game of whist. 

During all this period, no tidings of the boats, or 
of Mrs. Templemore and her infant, had been heard j 
it was therefore naturally conjectured that they had 
all perished, and they were remembered but as things 
that had been. 


THE PIRATE. 


4 St, 


CHAPTER VI. 

THE MIDSHIPMAN. 

The weather side of the quarter-deck of H. M. 
frigate Unicorn was occupied by two very great per- 
sonages : captain Plumbton, commanding the sliip 5 
who was very great in width if not in hight, taking 
much more than his allowance of the deck, if it were 
not that he was the proprietor thereof, and entitled 
to the lion’s share. ( -aptain P. was not more than 
four feet ten inches in hight ; but then he was equal 
to that in girt : there was quite enough of him, if he 
had only been rolled out. He walked with his coat 
flying open, his thumbs stuck into the arm-holes of 
his waistcoat, so as to throw his shoulders back and 
increase his horizontal dimensions. He also held 
his head well aft, whicli threw his chest and stomach 
well forward. He was the prototype of pomposity 
and good-nature, and he strutted like an actor in a 
procession. 

The other personage was the first lieutenant, whom 
nature had pleased to fashion in another mould. He 
was as tall as the captain was short — as thin as his 
superior was corpulent. His long, hanky legs were 
nearly up to the captain’s shoulders 5 and he bowed 
down over the head of his superior, as if he were the 
crane to hoist up, and the captain the bale of goods to 
be hoisted. He carried his hands behind his back, 
wit!) two fingers twisted together ; and his chief diffi- 
culty appeared to be to reduce his own stride to the 
parrot march of the captain. His features were 
sharp and lean as was his body, and wore every ap- 
pearance of a cross-grained temper. 

He had been making divers complaints of divers 
persons, and tlie captain had hitherto appeared im- 


THE PIRATE. 


4.3 


perturbable. Captain Plumbton was an even-tem- 
pered man, who was satisfied with a good dinner. 
Lieutenant Alarkitall was an odd-tempered man, 
who would quarrel with his bread and butter. 

“ Quite impossible, sir,'-’ continued the first lieu- 
tenant, “ to carry on duty without support.’' 

Tliis oracular observation, which, from the relative 
forms of the two parties, descended as it were from 
above, was replied to by the captain with a “ Very 
true.” 

Then, sir, 1 presume you will not object to my 
putting that man in the report for punishment.” 

“ I'll think about it, Mr. Markitall. This, with 
captain Plumbton, was as much as to say, no. 

The young gentlemen, sir, I am sorry to say, are 
very troublesome.” 

“ Boys always are,” replied the captain. 

Yes, sir; but the duty must be carried on, and 
I cannot do without them.” 

Very true — midshipmen are very useful.” 

“ But I am sorry to say. sir, that they are not. 
Now, sir, there’s Mr. Templemore ; 1 can do noth- 
ing with him — he does nothing but laugh.” 

“ I.augh i — Mr. IMarkitall, does he laugh at 
you ?” 

Not exactly, sir; but he laughs at every thing. 
If I send him to the masthead, he goes up laughing ; 
if I call him down, he comes down laughing; if I 
find fault with him, he laughs the next minute; in 
fact, sir, he does nothing but laugh. 1 should partic- 
ularly wish , sir, that you would speak to him, and see 
if any interference on your part — ” 

•'Would make him cry — eh? better to laugh 
than cry in this world. Does he never cry, Mr, 
Markitall ?” 

“ Yes, sir and very unseasonably. The oth.er day, 
yon may recollect, when you punished Wilson the 
marine, whom I appointed to take care of his chest 
and hammock, he was crying the whole time ; al- 


44 


THE PIRATE. 


most tantamount — at least an indirect species of 
mutiny on his part, as it implied — " 

“ That the boy was sorry that his servant was pun- 
ished ; I never flog a man, but I’m sorry myself, Mr. 
Markitall.” 

Well, I do not press the question of his crying — 
that I might look over 5 but his laughing, sir, I must 
beg that you will take notice of that. Here he is, sir, 
coming up the hatchway. Mr. Templemore, the 
captain wishes to speak to you.” 

Wow, the captain did not wish to speak to him, but, 
forced upon him' as it was Iw the first lieutenant, he 
could do no less. So Mr. Templemore touched his 
hat, and stood before the captain, we regret to say, 
with such a good-humored, sly, confiding smirk on 
his countenance, as at once established the proof of 
the accusation, and the enormity of the offence. 

“ So, sir,” said captain Plumbton, stopping in his 
perambulation, and squaring his shoulders still more, 

I find that you laugh at the first lieutenant.” 

I, sir ?” replied the boy, the smirk expanding in- 
to a broad grin. 

"Yes, you, sir,” said the first lieutenant, now 
drawing up to his full height ; " why, you’re laughing 
now, sir.” 

" I can’t help it, sir — it’s not my fault 3 and I’m 
sure it’s not yours, sir,” added the boy, demurely. 

" Are you aware, Edward — Mr. Templemore, I 
mean — of the impropriety of disrespect to your su- 
perior officer ?” 

" I never laughed at Mr. Markitall but once, sir 
that I can recollect, and that was when he tumbled 
over the messenger.” 

" And why did you laugh at him then, sir ?” 

" I always do laugh when any one tumbles down,” 
replied the lad 3 " 1 can’t help it, sir.” 

" Then, sir, I suppose you would laugh if you saw 
me rolling in the lee-scuppers,” said the captain. 

" Oh !” replied the boy, no longer able to con- 


THE PIRATE, 


tain himself, I'm sure I should burst myself with 
laughing — I think I see you now sir.” 

“ Do you, indeed ! Fm very glad that you do not j 
though Fm afraid young gentleman, you stand con- 
victed by your own confession.” 

“ Yes, sir, of laughing, if that is any crime 5 but 
it’s not in the articles of war.” 

'^No, sir; but disrespect is. You laugh when 
you go to the masthead.” 

But I obey the order, sir, immediately — do I 
not, Mr. Markitall ?” 

''Yes, sir, you obey the order; but at the same 
time your laughing proves that you do not mind 
the punishment.” 

" No more I do, sir. I spend half my life at the 
masthead, and I’mi used to it now.” 

" But, Mr. Templemore, ought you not to feel 
the disgrace of the punishment,” inquired the cap- 
tain, severely. 

" Yes, sir, if I felt I deserved it I should. I 
should unt laurrh. sir. if ?yoM sent me to the mast- 



assummg a serious coun- 


tenance. 

" You see, Mr. Markitall, that he can be grave,” 
observed the captain. 

" I’ve tried all I can to make him so, sir,” re- 
plied the first lieutenant; "but I wish to ask Mr. 
Templemore what he means to imply by saying, 
'when he deserves it.’ Does ho mean to say that 
I punished him unjustly ?” 

" Yes, sir,” replied the boy,boldly ; "five times out 
of six, I am mastheaded for nothing — and that’s the 
reason why I do not mind it.” 

"For nothing, sir! Do you call laughing no- 
thing ?” 

" I pay every attention that I can to my duty, 
sir; I always obey your orders; I try all I can to 
make you pleased with me — but you are always 
punishing me.” 


46 


THE PIRATE. 


Yes, sir, for laughing, and what is worse, mak- 
ing the ship’s company laugh.” 

‘‘ They ’ iiaul and hold ’ just the same, sir — I think 
they work all the better lor being merry.” 

''And pray, sir, what business have you to think,” 
replied tlie first lieutenant, now very angry. " Cap- 
tain Plumbton, as this young gentleman lliinks prop- 
er to interfere with me and the discipline ol‘ the 
fdiip, I beg you will see what elfect your punish- 
ment may have upon him.” 

" IMr. Tomplemore,” said the captain, "you are, 
in the first place, too free in your speech, and, in 
the next place, too fond of laughing. There is, 
JMr. Templemore, a time for all things — a time to 
be merry and a time to be serious. The quarter- 
deck is not the fit place for mirth.” 

" Pm sure th.e gangway is not,” shrewdly inter- 
rupted the boy. 

' jNo — you are right, nor the gangway 5 but -you 
may laugh on the forecastle, and when below with 
your messmates.” 

"Wo, sir, we may not; Mr. Markitall always 
sends out if he hears us laughing.” 

" Because, Mr. TemplemorC; you are always 
laughing.” 

" 1 believe I am, sir; and if its wTong Pm sorry 
to displease you, but I mean no disrespect. 1 laugh 
in my sleep — 1 laugh when I awake — 1 laugh when 
the sun shines — I always feel so happy; but al- 
though you do masthead me, Mr. hlarkitail, I should 
not laugh, but be very sorry, if any misfortune hap- 
pened to you.” 

" I believe you would, boy — I do, indeed, Mr. 
Markitall,” said the captain. 

" Well, sir,” replied the first lieutenant, as Mr. 
Templemore appears to be aware of his error, I do 
not wish to press my complaint — I have only to re- 
quest that he will never laugh again.” 

"You heaj-, boy, what the first lieutenant says ; 


THE PIRATE. 


47 


it’s veiy reasonable, and I beg I may hear no more 
complaints. Mr. Markitall, let me know when the 
foot of that foretopsail will be repaired — I should 
like to shift it to-night.” 

Mr. Markitall went down under the half-deck to 
make the inquiry. 

“And, Edward,” said captain Plumbton, as soon 
as the lieutenant was out of ear-shot, “ I have a 
good deal more to say to you upon this subject, but 
I have no time now. So come and dine with me 
— at my table, you know, 1 allow laughing in mod- 
eration.” 

The boy touched his hat, and with a grateful, 
happy countenance, walked away. 

VVe have introduced this little scene, that the 
reader may form some idea of the character of Ed- 
ward Templemore. He was indeed the soul of 
mirth, good-humor, and kindly feelings towards 
others} he even felt kindly towards the first lieute- 
nant, who persecuted him for his risible propensi- 
ties. We do not say that the boy was right in 
laugliing at all times, or that the first lieutenant 
was wrong in attempting to check it. As the cap- 
tain said, there is a time for all things, and Ed- 
ward’s laugh was not always seasonable} but it 
was his nature and he could not help it. He was 
joyous as the May morning} and thus he continued 
for years, laughing at every thing' — pleased with 
everybody — almost universally liked — and his bold, 
free and happy spirit, unchecked by vicissitude or 
hardship. 

He served his time — was nearly turned back, 
when he was passing his examination, for laughing, 
and tlien went laughing to sea a,gain — was in com- 
mand of a boat at the cutting-out of a French cor- 
vette, and, when on board, was so much amused by 
the little French captain skipping about with his 
rapier, which proved fatal to many, that, at last, he 
received a pink from the little gentleman himaelf, 


48 


THE PIRATE. 


which laid him on the deck. For this affair, and in 
considerations of his wound, he obtained his prom- 
otion to the rank of lieutenant — ^was appointed to a 
line-of-battle ship in the West Indies — laughed at 
the yellow fever — was appointed to the tender of 
of that ship, a fine schooner, and was sent to cruise 
for prize-money for the admiral, and promotion for 
himself, if he could, by any fortunate encounter, 
be so lucky as to obtain it. 


CHAPTER VII. 
sleeper’s bay. 

On the western coast of Africa there is a small 
bay which has received more than one name fronq^ 
its occasional visiters. That by Avhich it was de- 
signated by the adventurous Portuguese, who first 
dared to cleave the waves of the southern Atlantic, 
has been forgotten with their lost maritime pre- 
eminence; the name allotted to it by the w'oolly- 
headed natives of the coast has never, perhaps, been 
ascertained : it is, however, marked down in some 
of the old English charts as Sleepers Bay. 

The mainland which, by its curvature, has form- 
ed this little dent on a coast possessing, and cer- 
tainly at present requiring, few harbors, displays, 
perhaps, the least inviting of all prospects; ofiering 
to the view nothing but a shelving beach of dazzling 
white sand, backed with a few small hummocks 
beat up by the occasional fury of tlie Atlantic gales 
— arid, bare, and without the slightest appearance 
of vegetable life. The inland prospect is shrouded 
over by a dense mirage, through which here and 


THE PIRATE. 


49 

there are to be discovered the stems of a few dis- 
tant palm trees, so broken and disjointed by refrac- 
tion that tliey present to the imagination any thing 
but the idea of foliage or shade. The water in the 
bay is calm and smooth as the polished mirror; not 
the smallest ripple is to be heard on the beach, to 
break through the silence of nature; not a breath 
of air sweeps over its glassy surface, which is heat- 
ed W'ith the intense rays of a vertical noonday sun, 
pouring down a withering flood of light and heat; 
not a sea-bird is to be discovered wheeling on its 
flight, or balancing on its wing as it pierces the 
deep with its searching eye, ready to dart upon its 
prey. All is silence, solitude, and desolation, save 
that occasionally may be seen the fin of some huge 
shark, either sluggishly moving through the heated 
element, or stationary in the torpor of the midday 
heat. A sight so sterile, so stagnant, so little adapt- 
ed to human life, cannot well be conceived, unless, 
by flying to extremes, we were to portray the chill- 
ing blast, the transfixing cold, and '^close-ribbed 
ice,” at the frozen poles. 

At the entrance of this bay, in about three fath- 
oms water, heedless of the spring cable, which hung 
down as a rope which had fallen overboard, there 
floated, motionless as death, a vessel whose propor- 
tions would have challenged the unanimous admir- 
ation of those who could appreciate the merits of 
her build, had she been anchored in the most fre- 
quented and busy harbor of the universe. So beau- 
tiful were her lines, that you might almost have 
imagined her a created being that the ocean had 
been ordered to receive, as if fashioned by the Di- 
vine Architect, to add to the beauty and variety of 
his works ; for, from the huge leviathan to the 
smallest of the finny tribe-^frora the towering al- 
batross to the boding peteral of the storm — where 
could be found, among the winged or finned fre- 
quenters of the ocean, a form more appropriate. 


50 


THE PIRATE. 


more fitting, than this specimen of human skill, 
whose beautiful model and elegant tapering spars 
were now all that could be discovered to break 
the meeting lines of the firmament and horizon of 
the offing. 

Alas 1 she was fashioned, at the will of avarice, 
for the aid of cruelty and injustice and now was 
even more nefariously employed. She had been a 
slaver — she was now the far-famed, still more dread- 
ed, pirate-schooner, the “ Avenger.” 

jSot a man-of-war which scoured the deep but 
had her instructions relative to this vessel, which 
had been so successful in her career of crime — not 
a trader in any portion of the navigable globe but 
whose crew shuddered at the mention of her name, 
and the remembrance of the atrocities which had 
been practised by her reckless crew. She had been 
every where~iu the east, the west, the north, and 
the south, leaving a track behind her of rapine and 
murder. There she lay, in motionless beauty j her 
low sides were painted black, with one small, nar- 
row riband of red — her raking masts were clean 
scraped — her topmasts her cross-trees, caps, and 
even running-blocks, were p.ainted in pure white. 
Awnings were spread fore and aft to protect the 
crew from the powerful rays of the sun 5 her ropes 
were hauled taut 5 and in every point she wore the 
appearance of being under the control of seaman- 
ship and strict discipline. Through the clear smooth 
water her copper shone brightly ; and as you look- 
ed over her taffrail down into the calm blue sea, 
you could plainly discover the sandy bottom be- 
neath her, and the anchor which lay under her 
counter. A small boat floated astern, the weight 
of the rope which attached her appearing, in the 
perfect calm, to draw her towards the schooner. 

We must now go on board, and our first cause of 
surprise will be the deception relative to the ton- 
nage of the schooner, when viewed from a distance. 


THE PIRATE. 


5i 


Instead of a small vessel of about ninety tons, we 
discover tJiat she is upwards of two hundred 3 that 
her breadth of beam is enormous 5 and that those 
spars which appeared so light and elegant are of 
unexpected dimensions. Her decks are of narrow 
fir planks, without the least spring or rise 5 her ropes 
are of Manilla hemp, neatly secured to copper be- 
laying-pins, and coiled down on the deck, whose 
wliiteness is well contrasted with the bright green 
paint of her bulwarks ; her capstern and binnacles 
are cased in fluted mahogany, and ornamented witii 
brass} metal stanchions protect the skylights, and 
the bright muskets are arranged in front of the 
mainmast, while the boarding-pikes are lashed round 
the mainboom. 

In the centre of the vessel, between tlie fore and 
main masts, there is a long brass 32-pounder, fixed 
upon a carriage, revolving in a circle, and so ar- 
ranged that in bad weather it can be lowered down 
and housed ; while on each side of her decks are 
mounted eight brass guns, of smaller calibre and of 
exquisite workmanship. Her build proves the skill 
of the architect; her fitting-out, a judgm:^nt in 
which naught has been sacrificed to. althougii eve- 
ry thing has been directed by taste; and lier neat- 
ness and arrangement, that, in the person of h.er 
commander, to the strictest discipline there is unit- 
ed the practical knowdedge of a thorough searir;,n. 
How, indeed, otherwdse could she have so long 
continued her lawless yet successful career ? How 
could it have been possible to unite a crew of mis- 
creants, avho feared nor God nor man, most of whom 
had perpetrated foul murders, or had been guilty of 
even blacker iniquities? It was because he who 
commanded the vessel was so superior as to find in 
her no rivalry. Superior in talent, in knowledge of 
his profession, in courage, and moreover in physical 
strength — which in him was almost Herculean. 
Unfortunately, he was also superior to all in villany, 


52 THE PIRATE. 

in cruelty, and contempt of all injunction.^, moral 
and Divine. 

What had been the early life of this person was 
but imperfectly known. It was undoubted that he 
had received an excellent education, and it was 
said that he was of an a,ncient border family, on 
the banks of the Tweed 5 by what chances he had 
become a pirate — by v/hat errors he had fallt n i'rom 
his station in society, until he became an outcast, 
had never been revealed 5 it was only known that 
he had been some years employed in the slave- 
trade, previous to his seizing this vessel and com- 
mencing his reckless career. The name by which 
lie was known to the crew of the pirate vec^sel was 
'•'Cain/’ and well had he cjiosen this appellatioji ; 
for, had not his hand for more than tiiree years been 
against every man’s, and every man’s h:ind against 
his? In person, he was a.bove six feet l-igh, with a 
breadth of shoulders and of chest denoting the ut- 
most of physical force which, pcrliaps, has ever 
been allotted to man. His 1 ‘eatures would have 
been handsome, had they not been scared with 
wounds 5 and, strange to say, liis eyes was mild, 
and of a soft blue. His mouth was well formed, 
and his teeth of a pearly white j t.:;e liair of his 
head was crisped and wavy, and his heard, wliieh 
he wore, as did every person coinpcaie.g ti;e crew 
of the pirate, covered the lower jiartofhis lace, 
in strong, waving, and continued curls, 'i'h.e pro- 
portions of his body were perfect •, hut, from their 
vastness, they became almost terriiic. His cos- 
tume was elegant, and well adapted to his form : 
linen trousers, and untanned yellow leather boots, 
such as are made at the Western IsJbs a broad- 
striped cotton shirt 5 a red Cashmere shawl round his 
waist as a sash 5 a vest embroidered in gold tissue, 
wdth a jacket of dark velvet, and pendant gold but- 
tons, hanging over his left shoulder, after the fash- 
ion of the Mediterranean seamen j a round Turkish 


THE PIRATE. 


53 


skull-cap, handsomely embroidered ; a pair of pis- 
tols, and a long knife in his sash, completed his 
attire. 

The crew consisted in all of one hundred and 
sixty-five men, of almost every nation 5 but it was 
to be remarked that all those in authority were 
either Englislimen or from tiie nortliern countries ; 
the others were chiefly Spaniards and Ma’tesc. 
Still there were Portuguese, Brazilians, negroes, 
and others, who made up the complement, which, 
at the time we now speak, was increased by twen- 
ty-five additional hands. These were Kroumen, 
a race of blacks well known at present, who in- 
habit the coast near cape Palmas, and are often 
employed by our men-of-war stationed on the 
coast, to relieve the English seamen from duties 
which would be too severe to those who were not 
inured to the climate. They are powerful, athlet- 
ic men, good sailors, of a happy, merry disposition, 
and unlike other Africans, will work hard. Fond 
of the English, they generally speak the language 
sufliciently to be understood, and are very glad to 
recieve a baptism when they come on board. 'I'he 
name first given them they usually adhere to as 
long as they live 5 and you will now on the coast 
meet with a Blucher, a Wellington, a IMelson, &c., 
who will wring swabs, or do any other of the mean- 
est desci'iption of work, without feeling that it is 
discreditable to sponsorials so grand. 

it is not to be supposed that these men had vol- 
untarily come on board of the pirate 3 they had 
been employed in some British vessels, trading on 
the coast, and had been taken cut of them when 
the vessels were burnt, and the Europeans of the 
crew murdered. They had received a premise of 
reward, if they did their duty,; but not expecting 
it, waited for the earliest opportunity to make their 
escape. 

The captain of the schooner is abaft, with his 


54 


THE PIRATE. 


glass in his hand, occasionally sweeping the off- 
ing in expectation of a vessel heaving in sight ; the 
officers and crew are lying down, or lounging list- 
lessly about the decks, panting with the extreme 
heat, and impatiently waiting for the sea-breeze to 
fan their parched foreheads. With their rough 
beards and exposed chests, and their weather-beat- 
en, fierce countenances, they form a group which is 
terrible even in repose. 

We must now descend into the cabin of the 
schooner. The fittings-up of this apartment are 
simple ; on each side is a standing bed-place ; 
against the after bulk-head is a large buffet, origin- 
ally intended for glass and china, but now loaded 
with silver and gold vessels of every size and de- 
scription, collected by the pirate from the different 
ships which he had plundered ; the lamps are also 
of silver, and evidently had been intended to orna- 
ment the shrine of some Catholic saint. 

In this cabin there are two individuals to whom 
we shall now direct the reader’s attention. The 
one is a pleasanl-countenanced, good-humored 
Krouman, who had been christened “ Pompey the 
Great 5” most probably on account of his large pro- 
portions. He wears a pair of duck trousers ; the 
rest of his body is naked, and presents a sleek, 
glossy skin, covering muscles which an anatomist 
or a sculptor would have viewed with admiration. 
The other is a youth of eighteen, or thereabouts, 
with an intelligent, handsome countenance, evi- 
dently of European blood. There is, however, an 
habitually mournful cast upon his features; he is 
dressed much in the same way as we have describ- 
ed the captain, but the costume hangs more grace- 
fully upon his slender, yet well-formed limbs. He 
is seated upon a sofa, fixed in the fore part of the 
cabin, witli a book in his hand, which occasionally 
he refers to, and then lifts his eyes from, to waten 
the motions of the Krouman, who is busy in the 


THE PIRATE. 55 

office of steward, arranging and cleaning the costly 
articles in the buffet. 

“Massa Francisco, dis really fine ting,’' said 
Pompey, holding up a splendidly embossed tank- 
ard, which he had been rubbing. 

“ Yes,” replied Francisco, gravely j “ it is, indeed, 
Pompey.” 

‘‘ How captain Cain came by dis ?” 

Francisco shook his head 5 and Pompey put his 
finger up to his mouth, his eyes, full of meaning, 
fixed upon Francisco. 

At this moment the personage referred to was 
heard descending the companion-ladder. Pompey 
recommenced rubbing the silver, and Francisco 
dropped his eyes upon the book. 

What was the tie which appeared to bind the 
captain to this lad was not known ; but, as the lat- 
ter had always accompanied, and lived .altogether 
with him, it was generally supposed that he was 
the captain’s son ; and he was as often designated 
by the crew as young Cain, as he was by his Chris- 
tian name of Francisco. Still it was observed, that 
latterly they had frequently been heard in alterca- 
tion, and that the captain was very suspicious of 
Francisco’s movements. 

I beg I may not interrupt your conversation.” 
said Cain, on entering the cabin ; ‘^the information 
you may obtain from a Krouman must be very im- 
portant.” 

Francisco made no reply, but appeared to be 
reading his book. Cain’s eyes passed from one to 
the other, as if to read their thoughts. 

Pray, what were you saying, Mr. Pompey ?” 

Me say, massa captain ? me only tell young 
massa dis very fine ting ; ask where you get him — 
massa Francisco no tell.” 

And what might it be to you, you black scoun- 
drel ?” cried the captain, seizing the goblet and 
striking the man with it a blow on the head which 


THE PIRATE. 


% 

flattened tlic vessel, and at the same time felled 
the Krouman, powerful as he was, to the deck. 
The blood streamed, as the man slowly rose, stu- 
pified and trembling from the violent concussion. 
Without saying a word, he staggered out of the 
cabin, and Cain threw himself on one of the lock- 
ers in front of the standing bed-place, saying, with 
a bitter smile, “ So much for your intimates, Fran- 
cisco !'' 

“ Rather, so much for your cruelty and injustice 
towards an unoffending man,” replied Francisco, 
laying his book on the table. “ blis question was 
an innocent one — for he knew not the particulars 
connected witli the obtaining of that flagon.” 

“And you, I presume, do not forget them 
Well, be it so, young man 5 but 1 warn you again 
—as t have warned you often — nothing but the re- 
membrance of your mother has prevented me, long 
before this, from throwing your body to the sharks.” 

“ W’'hat influence my mother’s memory may- 
have over you I know not j I only regret that, in 
any way, she had the misfortune to be connected 
with you.” 

“ She had the influence,” replied Cain, “ which 
a woman must have over a man when they have for 
years swung in the same cot ; but that is wearing 
off fast. I tell you so candidly ; I Avill not allow 
even her memory to check me, if I find you continue 
your late course. You have shown disaffection be- 
fore the crew — you have disputed my orders — and 
I have every reason to believe that you are now 
plotting against me.” 

“ Can I do otherwise than show my abhorence,” 
replied Francisco, “ when I witness such acts of 
horror, of cruelty — cold-blooded cruelty, as lately- 
have been perpetrated ? Why did you bring me 
here ?■ and why do you now detain me ? All I ask 
is, that you will allow me to leave the vessel. Yoit 
are not my father ; you have told me so.” 


THE PIRATE. 


57 


'' No, I am not your father 5 but — ^you {u-e your 
mothers son.’' 

That gives you no right to have power over me, 
even if you had been married to my mother 5 
which — ” 

“ I was not.” 

“ I thank God ; for marriage with you would 
have been even greater disgrace.” 

“ What !” cried Cain, starting up, seizing the 
young man by the neck, and lifting him off his seat 
as if he had been a puppet 5 “ but no — I cannot for- 
get your mother.” Cain released Francisco, and 
resumed his seat on tlie locker. 

‘‘ As you please,” said Francisco, as soon as he 
had recovered himself 5 *' it matters little whether 
I am brained by your own hand, or launched ovei*- 
board as a meal lor the sharks 5 it will be but one 
more murder.” 

Mad fool ! why do you tempt me thus ?” re- 
plied Cain, again starting up hastily and quitting 
the cabin. 

The altercation which we have just described 
%vas not unheard on deck, as the doors of the cabin 
were open, and the skylight removed to admit the 
air. The face of Cain was (lushed as he ascended 
the ladder, fie percieved his chief mate standing 
by the hatchway, and many of tlie men, who had 
been slumbering abal't, with their heads raised on 
their elbows, as if they had been listening to the 
convei'sation below. 

It will never do, sir,” said Hawkhurst, the mate, 
shaking his head. 

” No,” replied the captain ; “ not if he were my 
own son. But what is to be done 1 — he knows no 
fear.” 

Hawkhurst pointed to the entering port. 

When I ask your advice, you may give it,” 
said the captain, turning gloomily away. 

In the mean time Francisco paced the deck in 


68 


THE PIRATE. 


deep thought. Young as he was, he was indifier- 
ent to death 5 for he had no tie to render life pre- 
cious. He remembered his mother, but not her 
demise ; that had been concealed from him. At 
the age of seven he had sailed with Cain in a slav- 
er, and had ever since continued with him. Until 
lately, he had been led to suppose that the captain 
was his father. During tlie years that he had been 
in the slave-trade, Cain had devoted much time to 
his education : it so happened that the only book 
which cculd be Ibund on board of the vessel, when 
Cain first commenced teaching, was a Bible be- 
longing to Francisco’s mother. Out of this book 
he learned to read ; and, as his education advanced, 
ether books were procured. It may appear strange 
that the very tratlic in which his reputed father 
was engaged did not corrupt the boy’s mind ; but, 
accustomed to it from his infancy, he had consider- 
ed these negroes as another species, — an idea ful- 
ly warranted by tlie cruelty of the Europeans to- 
wards them. 

There are seme dispositions so naturally kind 
and ingenuous that even example and evil contact 
cannot debase them ; such was the disposition of 
Francisco. As he gained in years and knowledge, 
he thought more and more for himself, and had al- 
i-eady become disgusted with the cruelty practised 
upon the unfortunate negroes, when the slave-ves- 
sel was seized upon by Cain, and converted into a 
pirate. At first the enormities committed had not 
been so great; vessels had been seized and plun- 
dered, but life had been spared. In the course of 
crime, however, the descent is rapid : and as, from 
information by those who had been released, the 
schooner was more than once in danger of being 
captured, latterly no lives had been spared ; and 
but too often the murders had been attended with 
deeds even more atrocious. 

Francisco had v/itnessed scenes of horror until 


THE PIRATE. 


69 


his young blood curdled : he had expostulated to 
save, but in vain. Disgusted with the captain and 
the crew, and their deeds of cruelty, ho had latter- 
ly expressed his opinions learlessly, and defied the 
captain ; for in the heat of an altercation, Cain had 
acknowledged that Francisco was not his son. 

Had any of the crew or officers expressed but a 
tithe of what had fallen from the bold lips of I'ran- 
cisco, they would have long before paid the forfeit 
o." their temerity 5 but there was a feeling towards 
Francisco w'hich could not be stilled in the breast 
o» Cain — it was the feeling of association and habit. 
The boy had been his companion for years 5 and, 
from assuetude, had become, as it were, a part of 
himself. There is a principle in our natures which, 
even when that nature is most debased, will never 
leave us — that of requiring something to love — 
something to protect and watch over : it is shown 
towards a dog, or any ether animal, if it cannot be 
lavished upon one of our own species. Such was tlic 
feeling winch so forcibly held Cain towards Fr.an- 
cisco ; such was the feeling which had hitherto sav- 
ed his life. 

After having paced up and down for some time, 
the youth took his seat on the locker which the 
captain had quitted : his eye soon caught the head 
of Pompey, who looked into the cabin and beckon- 
ed with his finger. 

Francisco rose, and, taking up a flagon from t!ie 
buffet which contained some spirits, walked to the 
door, and, without saying a word, handed it to the 
Krouman. 

'“Massa Francisco,” whispered Pompey, “ Pom- 
pey say — all Krouman say — suppose they run away, 
you go too. Pompey say — all Kroumen say — sup- 
pose they try to kill you ! ISebber kill you while 
one Krouman alive.” 

The negro then gently pushed Francisco back 
with his hand, as if not wishing to hear his answer, 
and hastened forward on the berth deck. 


60 


THE PIRATE. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

THE ATTACK. 

In the mean time the sea-breeze had risen in the 
offing, and was sweeping along the surlacc to 
where the schooner was at anchor. The captain 
ordered a man to the cross-trees, directing him to 
keep a good look-out, while he walked the deck in 
company with his first mate. 

She may not have sailed until a day or two la- 
ter,” said the captain continuing the conversation j 
‘*1 have made allowance for that, and depend upon 
it, as she makes the eastern passage we must soon 
fall in with her ; if she does not heave in sight this 
evening by daylight,! shall stretch out in the offing; 
I know the Portuguese well. The sea-breeze has 
caught our craft 5 lot them run up the inner jib, and 
see that she does not foul her anchor.” 

It was now late in the afternoon, and dinner had 
been sent into the cabin 5 the captain descended, 
and took his seat at the table with Erancisco, w!io 
ate m silence. Once or twice the captain, whose 
wrath had subsided, and v/hose kindly feelings to- 
wards Francisco, checked for a time, had returned 
with greater force, tried, but in vain, to rally him 
into conversation, when the '• nail, ho was shout- 
ed from the mast-head. 

“ There she is, by G — d !” cried the captain, 
jumping from, and then as if checking himself, im- 
mediately resuming, his seat. 

Francisco put his hand to his forehead, covering 
his eyes as his elbow leant upon the table. 

“ A large ship, sir ; we can see down to the sec- 
ond reef of her topsails,” said Hawkhurst, looking 
down the skylight. 

The captain hastily swallowed some wine from a 


THE PIRATE. 61 

flagon, cast a look of scorn and anger upon Fran- 
cisco, and rushed on deck. 

“ Be smart, lads cried the captain, after a few 
seconds' survey of the- vessel through his glass ; 
“ that’s her : furl the awnings, and run the anchor 
up to tlie bows: there’s more silver in that vessel, 
my lads, than your chests will hold ; and the good 
saints of the churches at Goa will have to wait a lit- 
tle longer for their gold candlesticks.” 

The crow were immediately on the alert ; the 
awnings were furled, and all the men, stretching 
aft the spring cable, w'alked the anchor up to the 
bows. In two minutes more, the Avenger was stand- 
out on the starboard tack, shaping her course so as 
to cut o(F the ill-fated vessel. The breeze freshen- 
ed, and the schooner darted through the smooth 
water with the impetuosity of a dolphin after its 
prey. In an hour the hull of the ship was plainly 
to be distinguished 3 but the sun was near to the 
horizon, and before they could ascertain what her 
force might be, daylight had disappeared. Whether 
the schooner had been perceived or not it was im- 
possible to say 5 at all events the course of the 
ship had not been altered, and if she had seen the 
schooner she evidently treated her with contempt. 
Oil board the Avenger they were not idle 5 the 
long gun in the centre had been cleared from the 
encumbrances which surrounded it, the other guns 
had been cast loose, shot handed up, and every 
thing prepared for action, with all the energy and 
discipline of a man-of-war The chase had not 
been lost siglit of, and the eyes of the pirate cap 
tain were lixed upon her through a night glass. In 
about an hour more the schooner was within a mile 
of tlie sliip. and now altered her course so as to 
range up within a cable’s length of her to leeward. 
Cain stood upon the gunwale, and hailed. The an- 
swer was in Portuguese. 

Heave to, or I’ll sink you !” replied he in the 
same language. 


62 


THE PIRATE. 


A genera] discharge from a broadside of carron- 
ades, and a heavy volley of muskets from the Por- 
tuguese, ■was the decided answer ; the broadside 
too much elevated to hit the low hull of the schoon- 
er, was still not without effect — the foretopmast 
fell, the jaws of the main gaff were severed, and a 
large proportion of the standing, as well as the run- 
ning rigging, came rattling down on her decks. 
The volley of musketry was more fatal ; thirteen 
of the pirates were wounded, some of them se- 
verely. 

“ Well done ! John Portuguese/’ cried Plawk- 
hurst 5 By the holy poker ! I never gave you cre- 
dit for so much pluck.” 

Which they shall pay dearly for,” was the cool 
reply of Cain, as he still remained in his exposed 
situation. 

Blood for blood ! if I drink it observed the 
second mate, as he looked at the crimson rivulet 
trickling down the fingers of his left hand from a 
wound in his arm — “just tie my handkercliief round 
this. Bill.” 

In the interim, Cain had desired his crew to ele- 
vate their guns, and the broadside was returned. 

“ That will do, my lads ; starboard — ease off the 
boom-sheet — let her go right round, Hawkhurst — 
we cannot afford to lose cur men.” 

The schooner wore round, and ran astern of her 
opponent. 

The Portuguese on board the ship, imagining that 
the schooner, finding she had met with une.x- 
pected resistance, had sheered off, gave a loud 
cheer. 

“ The last you will ever give, my fine fellows !” 
observed Cain, with a sneer. 

In a few minutes the schooner had run a mile 
■astern of the ship. 

“ Now, then, Hawkhurst, let her come to and 
about ; man the long gun, and see that every shot 


THE PIRATE. 


G3 


is pitched into her, while the rest of them get up 
a new foretop-mast, and knot and splice the rig- 
ging.'' 

The Schooner's head was again turned towards 
the ship ; her position was right astern, about a 
mile distant, or rather more ; the long thirty-two- 
pounder gun amidships was now regularly served, 
and every shot passing through the cabin-windows, 
or some other part of the sljip's stern, raking her 
fore and aft. In vain did the ship alter her course, 
and present her broadside to the scliooner 5 the lat- 
ter was immediately checked in her speed, so as to 
keep the proscribed distance at which the carron- 
ades of the ship were useless, and the execution 
from the long gun decisive. The ship was at the 
mercy of the pirate 5 and, as may be expected, no 
mercy was shown. I’or three hours did this mur- 
derous attack continue, when the gun, which as be- 
fore observed, was of brass, became so heated that 
the pirate captain desired his men to discontinue. 

Whether the ship had surrendered or not, it was 
impossible to say, as it was too dark to distinguish ; 
while the long gun was served, the foretop-mast 
and main-gaff had been shifted, and all the standing 
and running rigging made good 5 the schooner keep- 
ing her distance and following in tlie wake of the 
ship until daylight. 

We must now repair on board of the ship : she was 
an Indiaman 5 one of the very few that occasional- 
ly are sent out by the Portuguese government to a 
country which once owned their undivided sway, 
but in which, at present, they hold but a few miles 
of territory. She was bound to Goa, and had on 
board a small detachment of troops, a new gover- 
nor and his two sons, a bishop and his niece, with 
her attendant. The sailing of a vessel with such a 
freight was a circumstance of rare occurrence 3 
and was, of course, generally bruited about long 
before her departure. Cain had, for some months, 


THE PIRATE. 


64 

received all the necessary intelligence relative to 
her cargo and destination 5 but, as usual with the 
Portuguese of the present day, delay upon delay 
had follow'ed, and it was not until about three 
weeks previous that he had been assured oi her im- 
mediate departure. He then ran down the coast 
to the bay we have mentioned, that he might inter- 
cept her ; and as the event has proved, showed his 
usual judgment and decision. The lire of the 
schooner had been most destructive : many of the 
Indiaman’s crew, as well as of the troops, had been 
mowed down one after another , until, at last, 
finding that all their efforts to defend themselves 
were useless, most of those "who were still unhurt 
had consulted their safety, and hastened down to 
the lowest recesses of the hold to avoid the raking 
and destructive shot. At the time that the tclico- 
ner had discontinued her fire, to allow the gun to 
cool, there was no one on deck but the Portuguese 
captain, and one old weather-beaten seaman who 
stood at the helm. Below, in the orlop deck,ti:e 
remainder of the crew and the passengers were 
huddled together in a small space : some were at- 
tending to the wounded, who were numerous 5 eth- 
ers were invoking the saints to their assistance 5 the 
bishop, a tall, dignified person, apparently nearly 
sixty years of ao^, was kneeling in the centre of 
the group, wliicli was dimly lighted by two or three 
lanterns, at one time in fervent prayer — at another, 
interrupted, that he might give absolution to those 
wounded men whose spirits were departing, and 
xvho were brought down and laid before him by 
their comrades. On one side of him knelt his or- 
phan neice, a young girl of about seventeen years 
of age, watching his countenance as he prayed, or 
bending down with a look of pity and tearful eyes 
on her expiring countrymen, whose last moments 
were gladdened by his holy offices. On the other 
side, of the bishop stood the governor, don Philip 


THE PIRATE. 


65 


de Ribiera, and his two sons, youths in their prime, 
and holding commissions in the king's service. 
There was melancholy on the brow of don Ribiera; 
he was prepared for, and he anticipated the worst. 
The eldest son had his eyes fixed upon the sweet 
countenance of Teresa de Silva — that very evening, 
as they walked together on the deck, they had ex- 
changed their vows — that very evening they had 
luxuriated in the present, and had dw^elt with de- 
lightful anticipation on the future. But we must 
leave them, and return on deck. 

The captain of the Portuguese ship had walked 
aft, and now went up to Antonio, the old seaman, 
who was standing at the wheel. 

“ I still see her with the glass, Antonio, and yet 
she has not fired for nearly two hours ; do you think 
any accident has happened to her long gun 1 if so, 
we may have some chance." 

Antonio shook his head. “ We have but little 
chance, I am afraid, my captain ; I knew by the 
ring of the gun, when she first fired it, that it was 
brass ; indeed, no schooner could carry a long iron 
gun of that calibre. Depend upon it, she only 
waits for the metal to cool, and daylight to return : 
a long gun or two might have saved us j but now, 
as she has the advantage of us in heels, we are at 
her mercy." 

“ What can she be — a French privateer ?" 

“ 1 trust it may be so ; and I have promised a 
silver candlestick to St. Antonio that it may prove 
no worse : we then may have some chance of see- 
ing our homes again ; but I fear not." 

“ What, then, do you imagine her to be, Anto- 
nio ?" 

“ The pirate which we have heard so much of." 

Jesu protect us! we must then sell our lives 
as dearly as we can." 

“ So I intend to do, my captain," replied Anto- 
nio, shiAing the helm a spoke. 


66 


THE PIRATE. 


The day broke, and showed the schooner contin- 
uing her pursuit at the same distance astern, with- 
out any apparent move on board. It was not until 
the sun was some degrees above the horizon, that 
the smoke was again seen to envelope her bow^ 
and the shot crashed through the timbers of thv 
Portuguese ship. The reason for this delay was, 
that the pirate waited till the sun was up, to ascer- 
tain if there were any other vessel to be seen, pre- 
vious to his pouncing on his quarry. The Portu- 
guese captain went aft and hoisted his ensign, but 
no flag was shown by the schooner. Again whis- 
tled the ball, and again did it tear up the decks of 
the unfortunate ship : many of those who had reas- 
cended to ascertain what was going on, now hastily 
sought their former retreat. 

'' Mind the helm, Antonio,” said the Portuguese 
captain ; “ I must go down and consult v. ith the 
governor.” 

Never fear, my captain ; as long as these limbs 
hold together, I will do my duty,” replied the old 
man, exhausted as he was by long watching and fa- 
tigue. 

The captain descended to the orlop-deck, where 
he found the major part of the crew and passengers 
assembled. 

“ My lords,” said he, addressing the governor 
and bishop, ‘Hhe schooner has not shown any col- 
ors, although our iwn are hoisted. I am come 
down to know your pleasure. Defence we can 
make none 5 and I fear that we ai-e at the mercy 
of a pirate.” 

‘‘A pirate!” ejaculated several, beating their 
brea.sts, and calling upon their saints. 

^'Silence, my good people, silence,” quietly ob- 
served the bishop 5 ^-as to what it may be best to 
do,” continued he, turning to the captain, “ I can- 
not advise 5 I am a man of peace, and unfit to hold 
a place in a council of war. Don Ribiera, I must 


THE PIRATE. 


67 


arsons. Tremble not, 



under the protection 


of the Almighty?’’ 

“ Holy virgin, pity us !” exclaimed Teresa. 

^ Come my sons,” said Don Ribiera; we will 
go on deck and consult : let not any of the men 
follow us ; it is useless risking lives w'hich may yet 
be valuable.” 

Don Ribiera and his sons followed the captain to 
the quarter-deck, and with him and Antonio they 
held a consultation. 

“ We have but one chance,” observed the old 
man, after a time 5 “let us haul down our colors, 
as if in submission j they will then range up along- 
side, and either board us from the schooner, or from 
their boats : at all events we shall find cut what 
she is} and, if a pirate, we must sell our lives as 
dearly as we can. If, when we haul down tlie 
colors, she ranges up alongside, as I expect she 
will, let all the men be prepared for a desperate 
struggle.” 

You are right, Antonio,” replied the governor; 
“ go aft, captain, and haul down the colors ; — let 
ns see what she does now. Down, my boys ! and 
prepare the men to do their duty.” 

As Antonio had predicted, so soon as the cclors 
were hauled down, the schooner ceased firing, and 
made sail. She ranged up on the quarter of the 
ship, and up to her main peak soared the terrific 
black flag ; her broadside was poured into the In- 
diaman; and, before the smoke had cleared away, 
there was a concussion from the meeting sides, and 
the bearded pirates poured upon her decks. 

The crew of the Portuguese, with the detach- 
ment of troops, still formed a considerable body of 
men. The sight of the black flag had struck ice 
into evei7 heart; but the feeling was resolved into 
one of desperation. 

“Knives, men! knives!” roared Antonio, rush- 


68 THE PIRATE 

in;j on to the attack, followed by the most brave. 

“ Blood for blood ! cried the second mate, aim- 
ing a blow at the old man. 

“ You have it,’’ replied Antonio, as his knife en- 
tered the pirate’s heart, while, at the same moment, 
he fell and was himself a corpse. 

The struggle was deadly ; but the numbers and 
ferocity of the pirates prevailed. Cain rushed for- 
ward, followed by Hawkhurst, bearing down all 
who opposed them. With one blow from the pirate 
captain, the head of Don Ribierawas severed to the 
shoulder 3 a second struck down the eldest son, 
while tlie sword of Hawkhurst passed through the 
body of the other. The Portuguese captain had 
already fallen, and the men no longer stood their 
ground. A general massacre ensued, and the bod- 
ies were thrown overboard as fast as the men were 
slaughtered. In less than five minutes, there was 
not a living Portuguese on the bloody decks of the 
ill-fated ship. 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE CAPTURE. 

'' Pass the word for not a man to go below, Hawk- 
hurst !” said the pirate-captain. 

“ I have, sir 3 and sentries arc stationed at the 
hatchways. Shall we haul the schooner off ?” 

Ko, let her remain 3 the breeze is laint already : 
we shall have a calm in h.olf an hour. Have we 
lost many men ?” 

'‘Only seven, that I can reckon 3 tut v.’e have lost 
Wallace,” (second mate.) 


THE PIRATE. 


C9 


“ A little promotion will do no harm/' replied 
/>ain j “'take a dozen of our best men and search the 
ship, there are otliers alive yet. By-the-by, send a 
watch on board of tlje schooner j she is lelt to the 
mercy of tiie Krcumcn, and — " 

“One who is better out of her,” replied Hawkliurst. 
*^.\nd those vve find below — ” continued the mate. 

“ Alive .” 

“ 'I’rue ; we may else be puzzled where to find that 
portion of her car^^o which suits us,” said Hawk- 
nurst, going down the hatchway to collect tlie men 
who were plundering on the main-deck and in tiic 
captain s cabin. 

“ Here, you Maltese ! up, there ! and look v. ell 
round if there is any thing in sight,” said the cap- 
tain, walking aft. 

Before Hawkhurst had collected the men and or- 
dered them on board the schooner, as usual in those 
latitudes, it had fallen a perfect calm. 

Where was Francisco during this scene of blood? 
He had remained in the cabin of the schooner. Cain 
had more than once gone down to him, to pursuadc 
him to come on deck and assist at the boarding of 
the Portuguese, but in vain — his sole reply to the 
threats and solicitations of the pirate was, — 

‘•'Do with me as you please — 1 have made up my 
mind — ^ycu know 1 do not fear death — so long as I 
remain on board of this vessel I will take no part in 
your atrocities. If you do respect my mother's mem- 
ory, su.Ter her son to seek an honest and honourable 
livelihood.” 

These words of Francisco were ringing in the ears 
of ( ’ain as he walked up and down on tlic quarter- 
deck of the Portuguese vessel, and, debased as he 
was, he could not help feeling that the youth was 
his equal in animal, and hissuperior in mental cour- 
aTG — he wasar.-uingin hisown mind upon thecource 
he should pursue with respect to Francisco, when 
Hawkhurst midc his appeoi-ahce on deck, followed 


70 


THE PIRATE. 


by his men, who dragged up six individuals who had 
escaped the massacre. These were the bishop j 
his niece 3 a Portuguese girl, her attendant; the 
supercargo of the vessel ; a sacristan ; and a serv- 
ant of the ecclesiastic ; they w'ere hauled along the 
deck and placed in a row before the captain, who 
cast his eyes upon them in severe scrutiny. The 
bishop and his niece looked round, the one proudly 
meeting the eye of Cain, although he felt that his 
hour was come ; the other, carefully avoiding his 
gaze, and glancing round to ascertain whether there 
were any other prisoners, and if so, if her betroth- 
ed was amongst them ; but her eye discovered not 
what she sought, it was met only by the bearded 
faces of the pirate crew, and the blood which be- 
spattered the deck. 

She covered her face with her hands. 

“ Bring that man forward,’’ said Cain, pointing to 
the servant. “ Who are you 1” 

‘‘A servant of my lord the bishop.” 

''And you?” continued the captain. 

"A poor sacristan attending upon my lord the 
bishop.’’ 

" And you ?” cried he to the third. 

" The supercargo of this vessel.” 

" Put liim aside, Hawkhurst.” 

" Do you want the others ?” inquired Hawkhurst, 
significantly. 

"No.” 

Hawkhurst gave a signal to some of the pirates, 
who led away the sacristan and the servant. A sti- 
fled shriek and a heavy plunge in the water were 
heard a few seconds after. During this time, the 
pirate had been questioning the supercargo as to 
the contents of the vessel and her stowage, when 
he was suddenly interrupted by one of the pirates, 
who, in a hurried voice, stated that the sliip had 
received several sho^etween wind and water, and 
was sinking fast. Caffi, who was standing on the 


THE PIRATE. 


71 


slide of the carronade with his sword in his hand, 
raised his arm and struck the pirate a blow on his 
head with the hilt, which, whether intended or not, 
fractured his skull, and the man fell upon the deck. 

‘‘Take that, babbler! for your intelligence j if 
these men are obstinate, we may have worked for 
nothing.'^ 

The crew, who felt the truth of their captain’s 
remark, did not appear to object to the punishment 
inflicted, and the body of the man was dragged 
away. 

“ What mercy can we expect from those who 
show' no mercy even to each otlier ?” observed the 
bishop, lil'tirig up his eyes to heaven. 

“Silence!” cried Cain; who now interrogated 
the supercargo as to the contents of the hold — the 
poor man answered as well as he could — “ the plate ! 
the money for the troops — w'here are they 1 ” 

“ The money for the troops is in the spirit-room, 
but of the plate 1 know nothing j it is in some of 
the cases belonging to my lord the bishop.” 

“ Haw'khurst! down at once into the spirit-room 
and see to the money ; in the mean time I will ask 
a few questions of this reverend father.” 

“And the supercargo — do you want him any 
more ?” 

“ No ; he may go.” 

The poor man fell down on his knees in thank- 
fulness at what he considered his escape ; he w'as 
dragged away by the pirates, and it is scarcely ne- 
cessary to add, that in a minute his body w'as tom 
to pieces by the sharks, w'ho, scenting their prey 
from a distance, were now playing in shoals around 
the two vessels. 

The party on the quarter-deck were now (unper- 
ceived by the captain) joined by Francisco, who, 
liearing from the Krouman, Pompey, that there 
were prisoners still on board, and amongst them 
tw'o female.s, had come over to plead the cause of 
mercy. 


72 


THE PIRATE. 


Most reverend father/’ observed Cain, after a 
short pause; ‘‘you have many articles of value in 
this vessel 

“ IVone,” replied the bishop, “except this poor 
girl; she is, indeed, beyond price, and will, I trust, 
be soon an angel in heaven.” 

“ Yet is this world, if what you preach be true, 
a purgatory which must be passed through previous 
to arriving there, and that girl may think death a 
blessing compared to what she may expect if you 
refuse to tell me what I would knew. You have 
good store of gold and silver ornaments for your 
churches — where are they ?” 

“ They are among the packages intrusted to my 
care.” 

“ How many may you have in all ?” 

“A hundred, if not more.” 

“ Will you deign to inform me where I may find 
what I require ?” 

The gold and silver are not mine, but are the 
property of that God to v/hom they have been ded- 
icated,” replied the bishop. 

“ Answer quickly ; no more subterfuge, good sir. 
Where is it to be found ?” 

“ I will not tell, thou blood-stained man ! at least, 
in this instance, there shall be disappointment, and 
the sea shall swallow up those earthly treasures to 
obtain which thou hast so deeply imbrued thy hands. 
Pirate! I repeat it, I will not tell.” 

“ Seize that girl, my lads!” cried Cain; “she is 
yours, do with her as you please.” 

“Save me! oh, save me!” shrieked Teresa, 
clinging to the bishop’s robe. 

The pirates advanced, and laid hold of Teresa. 
Francisco bounded from where he stood behind the 
captain, and dashed away the foremost. 

“Are you men?” cried he, as the pirates retreat- 
ed. “ Holy sir, I honor you. Alas! I cannot save 
you,” continued Francisco, mournfully. “ Yet will 


THE PIRATE. 


73 


I try. On my knees — ^by the love you bore my 
mother — by the aflection you once bore me — do 
not commit tliis horrid deed. My lads continu- 
ed Francisco, appealing to the pirates, ‘‘join with 
me and entreat your captain j ye are too brave, loo 
manly, to injure the helpless and the innocent — 
above all, to shed the blood of a holy man, and of 
this poor trembling maiden.” 

There was a pause — even the pirates appeared to 
side with Francisco, though none of them dared to 
speak. The muscles of the captain’s face quivered 
with emotion, but from what source could not be 
ascertained. 

At this moment the interest of the scene was 
heightened. 'I’he girl who attended upon Teresa, 
crouched on her knees with terror, had been cast- 
ing her fearful eyes upon the men which composed 
the pirate crewj suddenly she uttered a scream of 
delight as she discovered among them one that she 
well knew. He was a young man, about twenty- 
five years of age, with little or no beard. He had 
been her lover in his more innocent daysj and she. 
for more than a year, had mourned him as dead, 
for the vessel in which he sailed had never been 
heard of. It had been taken by the pirate, and, to 
save his life, he had joined the crew. 

“Filippo! Filippo!” screamed the girl, rushing 
into his arms. “Mistress! it is Filippo 3 and we 
are safe.” 

Filippo instantly recognised her: the sight of her 
brought back to Jiis memory his days of happiness 
and innocence 3 and the lovers were clasped in each 
other’s arms. 

“ Save them ! spare them ! — by the spirit of my 
mother I I charge you,” repeated Francisco, again 
appealing to the captain. 

“ May God bless thee, thou good young man.” 
said the bishop, advancing and placing his hand up- 
on Francisco’s head. 


74 


THE PIRATE. 


Cain answered not ; but his broad expanded chest 
heaved with emotion — when Hawkhurst burst into 
the group. 

“ We are too late for the money, captain j the 
water is already six feet above it. We must now 
try for the treasure.” 

This intelligence appeared to check the current 
of the captain's feelings. 

“ Now, in one word, sir,” said he to the bishop, 
where is the treasure ? trifle not, or, by hea- 
ven !” — 

Name not heaven,” replied the bishop : “ you 
have had my answer.” 

The captain turned away, and gave some direc- 
tions to Hawkhurst, who hastened below, 

“ Remove that boy,” said Cain to the pirates, 
pointing to Francisco. “ Separate those two fools,” 
continued he, looking towards Filippo and the girl, 
who were sobbing in each other’s arms. 

Never !”cried Filippo. 

“ Throw the girl to the sharks ! do you hear ? 
am I to be obeyed ?” cried Cain, raising his cut- 
lass. 

Filippo started up, disengaged himself from the 
girl, and, drawing his knife, rushed towards the cap- 
tain to plunge it in his bosom. 

With the quickness of lightning the captain 
caught his uplifted hand, and, breaking his wrist, 
hurled him to the deck. 

‘‘ Indeed !” cried he, with a sneer. 

" You shall not separate us,” said Filippo, at- 
tempting to rise. 

I do not intend it, my good lad,” replied Cain ; 
'Hash them both together, and launch them over- 
board.” 

This order \vas now obeyed j for the pirates not 
only quailed before the captain’s cool courage, but 
were indignant that his life had been attempted. 
There was little occasion to tie the unhappy pair 


THE PIRATE. 


75 


together j they were locked so fast in each others, 
arms that it would have been impossible almost to 
separate them. In this state they were carried to 
the entering-port, and cast into the sea. 

Monster 1” cried the bishop, as he heard the 
splash thou wilt have a heavy reckoning for this.’' 

‘‘ Now bring these forward,” said Cain, with a 
savage voice. 

The bishop and his niece were led to the gang- 
way. 

What do you see, good bishop ?” said Cain, 
pointing to the discolored water, and the rapid mo- 
tion of the fins of the sharks — eager in the antici- 
pation of a further supply. 

I see ravenous creatures after their kind,” re- 
plied the bishop, “ who will, in all probability, soon 
tdar assunder these poor limbs j but I see no mon- 
ster like thyself. Teresa, dearest, fear not ; there 
is a God, an avenging God, a.s well as a rewarding 
one.” 

But Teresa’s eyes were closed — she could not 
look upon the scene. 

“ You have your choice j first torture, and then 
your body to those sharks for your own portion : 
and, as for the girl, this moment I hand her over to 
my crew.” 

Never !” shrieked Teresa, springing from the 
deck and plunging into the wave. 

There was the splash of contention, the lashing 
of tails, until the water was in a foam, and then the 
dark color gradually cleared away, and naught was 
to be seen but the pure blue wave and the still un- 
satiated monsters of the deep. 

“ The screws — the screw's — quick ! Ave’ll have 
the secret from liim,” cried the pirate captain, turn- 
ing to his crew, who, villains as they were, had been 
shocked at this last catastrophe — “ seize him.” 

Touch him not !” cried Francisco, standing on 
the hammock-nettings 3 “ touch him not ! if you 
are men.” 


76 


THE PIRATE. 


Boiling with rage, Cain let go the arm of the 
bishop, drew his pistol, and levelled it at Francisco. 
The bishop threw up the arm of Cain as he fired ; 
saw that he had missed his aim, and clasped his 
hands, raising his eyes to heaven in thankl'ulr.ess 
at Francisco’s escape. In this position he was coi- 
lored by Hawkhurst, wdiose anger overcame his 
discretion, and who hurled him through the enter- 
ing port into the sea. 

“Officious fool 1” muttered Cain, when he per- 
ceived what the mate had done. Then, recollect- 
ing h.imself, he cried . — “ Seize that boy and bring 
him here.” 

One or two of the crew advanced to obey his or- 
ders 5 but Pcmpey and the Kroumen, who had been 
attentive to what was going on, had collected round 
Francisco, and a scuffle ensued. The pirates, not 
being very determined, nor very anxious to take 
Francisco, allowed him to be hurried away in the 
centre of the Kroumen, wdio bore him safely to the 
schoonex- 

In the mean time Hawkhurst, and the major part 
of the men on board the ship, had been tearing up 
the hoLl to obtiin the valuables, but witiiout suc- 
cess. 'J’he water had now readied above the orlop- 
deck, and all further attempts were unav.uling. 

mi 1* 1 ^ 1 • n A i-j1 



might not be endangered by t’le vortex of the sink- 
ing vessel. Cain and Hawkhurst. with their disap- 
Tiointed crew, returned on board t!ie schooner, and, 
before they had succeeded in dctiching the two 
vessels a cable’s length, the ship went down with 
all the treasure so coveted. 'J’he indixnation and 
rage which w’erc expressed by the captain as he ra- 
pidly walked the deck in company witli his first 
mate — his violent gesticulations prove 1 to the crew 
that there was mischief brewing. Francisco did 
not return to the cabin} be remained forward with 


THE PIRATE. 


77 


the Kroumen, who, although but a small portion of 
the ship’s company, were known to be resolute 
and not to be despised. It was also observed that 
all of them had supplied themselves with arms, and 
were collected forward, huddled together, watch- 
ing every motion and manceuvre, and talking rapid- 
ly in their own language. The schooner was now 
steered to the north-westward under all press of 
sail. The sun again disappeared, but Francisco re- 
turned not to the cabin — he went below, surround- 
ed by the Kroumen, who appeared to have devoted 
themselves to his protection. Once during the 
night Hawkhurst summoned them on deck, but 
they obeyed not the order} and, to the expostula- 
tions ol the boatswain’s mate who came down, they 
made no reply. But there were many pirates in 
the schooner who appeared to coincide with the 
Kroumen in their regard for Francisco. There are 
shades of villany in the most profligate of societies} 
and, among the pirate’s crew, some were not whol- 
ly debased. The foul murder of a holy man — the 
cruel fate of the beautiful Teresa — and the barba- 
rous conduct of the captain towards Filippo and his 
mistress, were deeds of an atrocity to which even 
the most hardened were unaccustomed. Francis- 
co’s pleadings in behalf of m§rcy were at least no 
crime } and yet they considered that Francisco was 
doomed. He was a general favorite } the worst dis- 

{ )osed of the pirates, with the exception of Hawk- 
mrst, if they did not love him, cculd not forbear 
respecting him } although, at the same time, they 
felt that if Francisco remained on board, the power 
even of Cain himself would soon be destroyed. 
For many months Hawkhurst, who detested this 
youth, had been most earnest that he should be 
sent out of the schooner. JN'ow he pressed the cap- 
tain for his removal in any way, as necessary for 
their mutual safety, pointing out to Cain the con- 
duct of the Kroumen, and his fears that a large 


78 


THE PIRATE. 


proportion of the ship’s company were equally dis- 
affected. Cain felt the truth of Hawkhurst’s repre- 
sentation 5 and lie went down to his cabin to con- 
sider upon what was to be done. 

It was past midnight, when Cain, worn out with 
the conflicting passions of the day, fell into an un- 
easy slumber. His dreams were of Francisco’s 
mother — she appeared to him pleading for her son, 
and Cain “ babbled in his sleep.” At this time 
f’rancisco, with Pompey, had softly crawled aft, 
that they might obtain, if they found the captain 
asleep, the pistols of I’rancisco, with some ammu- 
nition. Pompey slipped in first, and started back 
when he heard the captain’s voice. They remain- 
ed at the cabin door listening. No — no,” mutter- 
ed Cain, “ he must die — useless — plead not, wo- 
man ! — I know I murdered thee — ^plead not, he 
dies !” 

In one of the sockets of the silver lamp there was 
a lighted wick, the rays of which were sufficient to 
afford a dim view of the cabin. Francisco, over- 
hearing the Words of Cain, stepped in, and walked 
up to the side of the bed. “ Boy ! plead not,” con- 
tinued Cain, lying on his back and breathing heavi- 
ly — “ plead not — woman. ! to-morrow he dies.” A 
pause ensued, as if the sleeping man was listening 
to a reply. “ Yes, as I murdered thee, so will 1 
murder him.” 

“ Wretch,” said Francisco, in a low solemn voice, 
didst thou kill my mother 1 ” 

“ I did — I did,” responed Cain, still sleeping. 

And why continued Francisco, who at this 
acknowledgment on the part of the sleeping cap- 
tain, was careless of discovery. 

“ In my mood — she vexed me,” answered Cain. 
Fiend ! thou hast then confessed it,” cried 
Francisco in a loud voice, which awoke the cap- 
tain, who started up ; before his senses w'ere well 
recovered, or his cpencd so as to distinguish 


THE PIRATE. 


79 


their forms, Pompey struck out the light, and all 
was darkness j he then put his hand to Francisco’s 
mouth, and led him out of the cabin. 

“ Who’s there ? — who’s there ?” cried Cain. 

The officer in charge of the deck hastened down. 
“ Did you call, sir ?” 

“ Call,” repeated the captain — “ I thought there 
was some one in the cabin. I want a light — that’s 
all,” continued he, recovering himself, as he wiped 
the cold perspiration from his forehead. 

In the mean time Francisco, with Pompey, had 
gained his former place of refuge with the Krou- 
men. The feelings of the young man changed from 
agony to revenge ; his object in returning to the 
cabin to recover his weapons had been frustrated, 
but his determination now was to take the life of 
the captain if he possibly could. The following 
morning the Kroumen again refused to work or go 
on deck 5 and the state of affairs was reported % 
Hawkhurst to his chief. The mate now assumed 
another tone 5 for he had sounded not the majority 
but the most steady and influential men on board, 
who, like himself, were veterans in crime. 

It must be, sir j or you will no longer command 
this vessel. I am desired to say so.” 

Indeed,” replied Cain, with a sneer 5 per- 
haps you have already chosen my successor.” 

Hawkhurst perceived that he had lost ground, 
and he changed his manner. I speak but for your- 
self 5 if you do not command this vessel, I shall not 
remain in her — if you quit her, I quit also 5 and we 
must And another.’’ 

Cain was pacified, and the subject was not re- 
newed. 

“ d'urn up the hands,” at last said the captain. 
Iffie pirate crew assembled aft. 

“ My lads, L am sorry that our laws oblige me 
to rnike an example 5 but mutiny and disaffection 
must be punished. I am equally bound as your- 


80 


THE PIRATE. 


selves by the laws which we have laid down for our 
guidance while we sail together ; and you may be- 
lieve, that in doing my duty in this instance, 1 am 
guided by a sense ofjustice, and wish to prove to 
you that 1 am worthy to command. Francisco has 
been with me since he was a child j he has lived 
with me, and it is painful to part with him ; but I 
am here to see that our laws are put in force. He 
has been guilty of repeated mutiny and contempt, 
and — he must die.'’ 

'' Death ! death !” cried several of the pirates in 
advance — 'Meath and justice !" 

"No more murder !” said several voices from be- 
hind. 

" Who’s that — that speaks 

" Too much murder yesterday — no more mur- 
der !” shouted several voices at once. 

" Let the men come forward who speak,” cried 
Cain, with a withering look. No one obeyed this 
order. " Down, then, my men ! and bring up Fran- 
cisco,” 

The whole of the pirate crew hastened below, 
but with different intentions ; some were deter- 
mined to seize Francisco, and hand him over to 
death — others to protect him. A confused noise 
was heard — the shouts of down, and seize him ! 
opposed to those of no murder ! no murder ! 

Beth parties had snatched up their arms j those 
who sided with f’rancisco joined the Kroumen, 
whilst the others also hastened below to bring him 
on deck. A slight scuffle ensued before they sep- 
arated, and ascertained by the separation the 
strength of the contending parties. I'rancisco, per- 
cieving that he was joined by a large body, desired 
his men to follow him, went up the fore ladder, 
and took possession of the forecastle. The pi- 
rates on his side supplied him with arms, “and 
Francisco stood forward in advance, Hawkhurst, 
and those of the crew who sided with him, had re- 


TiiE PIRATE. 


81 


treated to the quarter-deck, and rallied round the 
captain, who leaned against the capstern. They 
were then able to estimate their comparative 
strength. The number, on the whole, preponder- 
ated in favor of Francisco ; but on the captain’s 
side were older and more athletic of the crew, and, 
we may add, the more determined. Still, the cap- 
tain and Haw’khurst perceived the danger of their 
situation, and it was thought advisable to parley for 
the present, and wreak their vengeance hereafter. 
For a few minutes there was a low consultation be- 
tween both parties 5 at last Cain advanced. 

My lads,” said he, addressing those who had 
rallied round Francisco, I little thought that a 
fiiebrand would have been cast in this vessel to set 
us all at variance. It w'as my duty, as your captain 
to propose that our laws should be enforced. Tell 
me, now, what it is that you wish. I am only here 
as your captain, and to take the sense of the whole 
crew. I have no animosity against that lad j I 
have loved him — I have cherished him ; but, like a 
viper, he has stung me in return. Instead of being 
in arms against each other, ought we not to be uni- 
ted ? I have, therefore, one proposal, to make to 
you, which is this : Let the sentence go by vote or 
ballot, if you please ; and whatever the sentence 
may be, I shall be guided by it. Can I say 
more 

“ My lads,” replied Francisco, w^hcn the captain 
had done speaking, “I think it better that you 
should accept this proposal, rather than blood should 
be shed. My life is of little consequence 5 say, 
then, will you agree to the vote, and submit to 
those laws, which as the captain says, have been 
laid down to regulate the discipline of the vessel?” 

The pirates on Francisco’s side looked round 
among their party, and, perceiving that they were 
the most numerous, consented to the proposal; but 
Hawkhurst stepped fonvard and observed ; “ Of 

6 


8:2 


THE PIRATE. 


course, the Kroumen can have no votes, as they 
do not belong to the vessel.” 

This objection was important, as they amounted 
to twenty -five, and after that number was deducted, 
in all probability, Francisco’s adherents would 
have been in the minority. The pirates with 
ITancisco objected, and again assumed the attitude 
ol’ defence. 

“ One moment,” said Francisco, stepping in ad- 
vance 5 “ before this point is settled, I wish to take 
the sense of all of you as to another of your laws. 

I ask you, Hawkhurst, and all you who are now op- 
posed to me, whether you have not one law which 
Is, Blood for blood.” 

Yes* — yes,” shouted all the pirates. 

Then let your captain stand forward, and answer 
to my charge, if he dares.” 

Cain curled his lip in derision, and walked within 
two yards of Francisco. 

“ Well, boy, I m here j and what is your charge?” 
First — 1 ask you, captain Cain, who are so anx- 
ious that the laws should be enforced, whether 
you acknowledge that ‘ Blood for blood ’ is a just 
law ?” 

‘‘Most just; and, when shed, the party who re- 
venges is not amenable.” 

“’Tiswell: then, villian that thou art, answer 
*^Didst thou not murder my mother ?” 

Cain, at this accusation, started. 

“ Answer the truth, or lie like a recreant”, re- 
peated Francisco ; “ did you not murder my moth- 
er ?” 

The captain’s lips and the muscles of his face 
quivered, but he did not reply. 

“ Blood for blood!” cried Francisco, as he fired 
his pistol at Cain, who staggered and fell on the 
deck. 

Hawkhurst and several of the pirates hastened to 
the captain, and raised him. 


THE PIRATE. 


83 


'^She must have told him last night/’ said Cain, 
sneaking with dilTicuity, as tlie blood flowed from 
the wound. 

“ He tol l m? so himseif/’ said Framcisco, turn- 
ing round to those who stood by him. 

Cain was tikeu dov/a into the cabin. On exam- 
ination, i.is wcun 1 was not mortal, although the 
loss of blood had been rapid and very great. In a 
few minutes Hawkhurst joined tl'.e party on the 
quarter-deck. He found that the tide had turned 
more in Francisco’s favor than he had expected ; 
the law of“ Blood for blood” was held most sacred: 
indeed, it was but the knowledge that it was sol- 
emnly recognised, and that, if one pirate wounded 
another, that other was at liberty to take his life, 
without punishment, which prevented constant af- 
frays h'ctwoea parties, whose knives would other- 
wise have been tlie answer to every affront. It 
was a more debased law of duelling, which kept 
such proflligate associates on good terms. I'indhig, 
therefore, "that this feeling predominated, even 
among those wlio were opposed to Francisco on the 
other question, Hawkhurst thouglit it advisable to 
parley. 

“ Hawkhurst,” said Francisco, “ I have but one 
request to make, which, if complied with, will put 
an end to this contention ; it is, that you will put 
me on shore at the first land that we make. If you 
and your party engage to do this, I will desire those 
who support me to return to their obedience.” 

“ I grant it,” replied Hawkhurst ; “ and so will 
the others. Will you not my men ?” 

“ Agreed — agreed upon all sides,” cried the 

f iirates throwing away their weapons, and ming- 
ingwith each other, ac iftJiey had never been op- 
posed. 

There is an old saying, t’aat there is honor 
amongst tliievcs ; and so it often proves-. Every 
man in the vessel knew that tliis agreement would 


84 


THE PIRATE. 


be strictly adhered to ; and Francisco now walked 
the deck with as much composure as if nothing'had 
occurred. 

Hawkhurst, who was aware that he must fulfil 
his promise, carefully examined the charts when he 
went down below, came up and altered the course 
of the schooner two points more to the northward. 
The next morning he was up the mast-head nearly 
half an hour, when he descended, and again altered 
the course. By nine o’clock, a low sandy island 
appeared on the lee bow 5 when within half a mile 
of it, he ordered the schooner to be hove to, and 
lowered down the small boat from the stern. He 
then turned the hands up. My lads, we must 
keep our promise, to put Francisco on shore at the 
first land which we made. There it is 5” and a ma- 
licious smile played on the miscreant’s features, 
as he pointed out to them the barren sand-bank, 
which promised nothing but starvation and a linger- 
ing death. Several of the crew murmured 3 but 
Hawkhurst was supported by his own party, and 
had, moreover, taken the precaution quietly to re- 
move all the arms, with the exception of tliose with 
which his adherents were provided. 

'' An agreement is an agreement 3 it is what he 
requested himself, and we promised to perform. 
Send for Francisco.” 

I am here, Hawkhurst 3 and I tell you candidly, 
that desolate as is that barren spot, I prefer it to re- 
maining in your company. I will bring my chest up 
immediately.” 

“ No — no 3 that was not a part of the agreement,” 
cried Hawkhurst. 

Every man here has a right to his own property. 
I appeal to the whole of the crew.” 

“ True — true,” replied the pirates 3 and Hawk- 
hurst found himself in the minority. 

“ Be it so.” 


THE PIRATE. 85 

The chest of Francisco was handed into the 
boat. 

Is that all V’ cried Hawkhurst. 

“ My lads, am I to have no provisions or water 1 " 
inquired Francisco. 

“ Ho,” replied Hawkhurst. 

Yes — ^yes,” cried mostof the pirates. 

Hawkhurst did not dare to put it to the vote ; he 
turned sulkily away. The Kroumen brought up two 
breakers of water, and some pieces of pork. 

“ Here, massa,’’ said Pompey, putting into Fran- 
cisco’s hand a fishing-line with hooks. 

“ Thank you, Pompey 5 but I had forgot — that 
book in the cabin — ^you know which I mean.” 

Pompey nodded his head, and went below ; but 
it was some time before he returned, during which 
Hawkhurst became impatient. It was a very small 
boat which had been lowered down 5 it had a lug- 
sail and two pair of sculls in it, and was quite full 
when Francisco’s chest and the other articles had 
been put in. 

“ Come ! I have no time to wait,” said Hawk- 
hurst 5 “ in the boat !” 

Francisco shook hands with many of the crew, 
and wished all of them farewell. Indeed, now 
that they beheld the poor lad about to be cast on a 
desolate island, even those most opposed to him 
felt some emotions of pity. Although they ac- 
knowledged that his absence was necessary, yet 
they knew his determined courage j and with them 
that quality was always a strong appeal. 

“ Who will row this lad ashore, and bring the 
boat off?” 

“ Not I,” replied one 5 it would haunt me ever 
afterwards.” 

So they all appeared to think, for no one volun- 
teered, Francisco jumped into the boat. 

There is no room for any one but me 5 and I 
will row myself onshore,” cried he. ^'Farewell, 
my lads ! farewell !” 


86 


THE PIRATE. 


Stop ! not so; he must not have the boat — ^he 
may escape from tlie island,” cried Hawkhurst. 

“ And why shouldn’t he, poor fellow ?” replied 
the men ; “ let him have the boat.” 

Yes — yes, let him have the boat;” and Hawk- 
hurst was again overruled. 

“ Here, massa Francisco — ^liere de book.” 

What’s tliat. sir ?” cried Hawkhurst, snatching 
the book out of Pompey’s hand. 

Him, massa, Bible.” Francisco waited for the 
book. 

“ Shove off!” cried Hawkhurst. 

Hive me my book, Mr. Hawkhurs).” 

“ JN'o 1” replied the malignant rascal, tossing the 
Bible over the taffrail ; “ he shall not have that. 
I’ve heard say that there is consolation in it to the 
aJHcted.” 

Francisco shoved off his boat, and seizing his 
sculls, pushed astern, picked up the book, which 
still lloated, and laid it to dry on the after-thwart of 
the boat. He then pulled in for the shore. In the 
mean time the schooner had let draw her fore- 
sheet, and had already left him a quarter of a mile 
astern. Before Francisco had gained the sand-bank, 
she was hull down to the northward. 


CHAPTER X. 


THE SAND-BANK. 

The first half hour that Francisco was on this 
desolate spot he watched the receding schooner . 
his thoughts were unconnected and vague. Wan- 
dering through the various scenes which had passed 


THE PIRATE. 


87 


on the decks cf that vessel, and recalling to his 
memory the different characters of those on board 
of her, much as he had longed to quit her— disgus- 
ted as he had been with these with whom he had 
been forced to associate 5 still as her sails grew fain- 
ter and fainter to his view, as she increased her dis- 
tance, he more than once lelt that even remaining 
on board of her would have been preferable to his 
present deserted lot. ‘‘ INo, no !" exclaimed he, 
alter a little farther reflection, “ I had rather perisli 
here, than continue to witness the scenes which 1 
have beed forced to behold/’ 

He once more fixed his eyes upon her white sails, 
and then sat down on the loose sand, and remained 
in deep and melancholy revery until the scorching 
heat reminded him of his situation 5 he afterwards 
rose, and turned his thoughts upon his present situ- 
ation, and to what would be the measures most ad- 
visable to take. He hauled his little boat still iar- 
ther on the beach, and attached the painter to one 
of the oars, which he fixed deep in the sand 5 he 
then proceeded to survey the bank, and found that 
but a small portion w'as uncovered at high w ater j 
for, trifling as was the rise of the tide, the bank was 
so low that the water flowed almost over it. 'J‘he 
most elevated part was not more than fifteen feet 
above high-water mark, and tliat was a small knoll 
of about fifty feet in circumference. 

To this part he resolved to remove his effects : 
he returned to the boat, and having lifted out his 
chest, the water, and provisions, with the other ar- 
ticles which he had obtained, he dragged them up, 
one by one, until they were all collected at the 
spot he had chosen. He then took out of the boat 
the oars and little sail, which fortunately, had re- 
mained in her. His last object, to haul the little 
boat up to the same spot, was one which demanded 
all his exertion 5 but, after considerable fatigue, he 
contrived, by first lifting round her bow, and then 
her stern, to effect his object. 


88 


THE PIRATE. 


Tired and exhausted, he then repaired to one of 
the breakers of water, and refreshed himself. The 
lieat, as the day advanced, had become intolei'ablej 
but it stimulated him to Iresh exertion. He turned 
over tlie boat, and contrived that the bow and 
stern should rest upon two little hillocks, so as to 
raise it above the level of the sand beneath it two 
or three feet; he spread out tlie sail from the keel 
above, with the thole-pins as pegs, so as to keep 
o'f the rays of the sun. Dragging the bi'ealiers of 
water and the provisions underneath tlie boat, he 
left his chest outside; and, having thus formed for 
himself a sort of covering which would protect him 
from the heat of the day and the damp of the night, 
he crept in, to shelter himself until the evening. 

Although Francisco had not been on deck, he 
knew pretty well wherealiouts he then was. Tak- 
ing out a chart from his chest, he examined the 
coast to ascertain the probable distance which he 
might be from any prospect of succor. He calcu- 
lated that he was on one of a patch of sand-banks, 
off tlie coast of Loango, and about seven hundred 
miles from the isle of St. Thomas — the nearest 
place where he might expect to fall in wdth a Eu- 
ropean face. From the coast he felt certain that 
he could not be more than forty or fifty miles at 
the most; but could he trust himself among the 
savage nations who inhabited it ? He knew how 
ill they had been treated by Europeans; for, at that 
period, it was quite as common for the slave traders 
to land and take the inhabitants away as slaves by 
force, as to purchase them in the more northern 
territories; still, he might be fortunate enough to 
fall in with some trader on the coast, as there were 
a few who still carried on a barter for gold-dust 
and ivory. 

We do not know — w'e cannot conceive a situation 
much more deplorable than the one we have just 
described to have been that of Francisco, .\lone — 


THE PIRATE. 


89 


without a chance of assistance — with only a suffi- 
ciency of food for a few days, and cut off from the 
rest of lus fellow-creatures, with only so much terra 
firina as would prevent his being swallowed up by 
the vast unfathomable ocean, into which the hori- 
zon fell on every side around him, and his chance 
of escape how small ! Hundreds of miles from any 
from whom he might expect assistance, and the 
only means of reaching them a small boat — a mere 
cockle-shell, which the first rough gale would in- 
evitably destroy. 

Such, indeed, were the first thoughts of Francis- 
co ; but he soon recovered from his despondency. 
He was young, courageous, and buoyant with hope 5 
and there is a feeling of pride — of trust in our own 
resources and exertions, which increases and stim- 
ulates us in proportion to our danger and difficulty : 
it is the daring of the soul, proving its celestial ori- 
gin and eternal duration. 

So intense was the heat that Francisco almost 
panted for sufficient air to support life, as he lay 
under the shade of the boat during the whole of 
that day 5 not a breath of wind disturbed the glassy 
wave — all nature appeared hushed into one horrible 
calm. It was not until the shades of night were 
covering the solitude, that Francisco ventured forth 
from his retreat ; but he found little relief j there 
was an unnatural closeness in the air — a suffocation 
unusual even in those climes. Francisco cast his 
eyes up to the vault of heaven, and Avas astonished 
to find that there were no stars visible — a gray mist 
covered the whole firmament. He directed his 
view downwards to the horizon, and that, too, was 
not to be defined j there was a dark bank all around 
it. He walked to the edge of the sandbank 5 there 
was not even a ripple — the wide ocean appeared to 
be in a trance, in a state of lethargy or stupor. 

He parted the hair from his feverish brow, and 
once more surveying the horrible, lifeless, stagnant 


90 


THE PIRATE. 


waste, his soul sickened, and he cast himself upon 
the sand. There he lay for many hours in a state 
bordering upon wild despair. At last he recovered 
himself; and, rising to his knees, he prayed for 
strength, and submission to the will of Heaven. 

When he was once more upon his feet, and had 
again scanned the ocean, he perceived that there 
was a change r.ipidly approaching. The dark bank 
on the horizon had now risen higher up; the opaque- 
ness was every where more dense; and low mur- 
murs were heard, as if there was wind stirring aloft, 
althcugh the sea avas still glassy as a lake. Signs 
of seme movement about to take place were evi- 
dent. and the solitary youth watched and watched. 
And now the sounds increased — and here and th.ere 
a wild thread of air — whence coming, who could 
tell ? and as rapidly disappearing, would ruflle, for 
a secc.nd, a portion of the stagnant sea. I'hen came 
wlnzzing sounds and moans, and then the rumbling 
noise of distant thunder — loud and louder — yet — 
still louder — a broad black line is seen sweeping 
along the expanse of watei' — fearful in its rapidity — 
it comes 1 — it comes I — and the hurricane burst, at 
once and with all its force, and all its terrific sounds, 
upon the isolated Francisco. 

The first blast was so powerful and so unexpect- 
ed that it threw him down ; and prudence dictated 
to him to remain in that position for the loose sand 
was swept off and whirled in such force as to blind 
and prevent his seeing a foot from him ; he would 
have crawled to the boat for security, but he knew 
not in what direction to proceed. But this did not 
last; for now the water was borne up upon the 
strong wings of the hurricane, and the sand was 
rendered firm by its saturation with the element. 

Francisco felt that he was drenched, and he rais- 
ed his head. All he could discover was, that the 
firmament was mantled with a darkness, horrible 
from its intensity, and that the sea was in one cx- 


THE PIRATE. 


91 


tended fonm — boiling every where, and white as 
milk — but still smootli, as if tl.e pow’er of the wind 
had compelled it to be soj but the water had en- 
croaciicd, and one lialf the sandbank was covered 
with it, wiiile over the other the foam wliirled, each 
portion chasing tl.e other with wild rapidity. 

•And now the window’s of heaven were opened; 
and the rain mingled with the spray caught up by 
the hurricane, was dashed and hurled upon the 
Ibrlorn youth, who still lay where he had been first 
thrown down. But of a sudden a wash of water 
told him that he could there remain no longer: the 
sea was rising — rising fast; and before lie cc uld 
gain a few paces on his hands and knees, another 
wave, as if it chased him in its wrath, repeated the 
warning of his extreme danger, and he was obliged 
to rise on his feet and hasten to the high part of 
the sandbank, where he had drawn up his beat and 
his provisions. 

Blinded as he w'as by the rain and sprav, he could 
distinguish nothing. Of a sudden, he fell violently ; 
he had stumbled over one of the breakers of w’ater, 
and his head struck against las sea-chest. Where, 
then, was the boat? it was gone! — it must imve 
been sv/ept away by the fury of the wind. Alas! 
then, all chance was over! and if not washed away 
by the angry v/aters, he had but to prolong his exist- 
ence but a few days and then to die. The effect 
of the blow be had received on his forehead with 
the sliock of mind occasioned by the disappearance 
of the^ boat, overpowered him, and lie remained for 
some time in a state of insensibility. 

Wl:en Francisco recovered, the scene was again 
changed ; the wide expanse was now in a stale of 
wild and fearful commotion, and the waters roared 
as loud as did the hurricane, d'he whole sandbank, 
with tlie exception of that part on which lie stood, 
was now covered with tumultuous foam ; and his 
place of refuge w'as occasionally invaded, when 


THE PIRATE. 


some vast mass, o’erlording the other waves, ex- 
pended all its fury even to his feet. Francisco pre- 
pared to die ! 

Rut gradually the darkness of the heavens disap- 

J )earedj and tliere was no longer a bank upon the 
lori^on j and Francisco hoped — alas ! hoped what ? 
— that he might be saved from the present impend- 
ing death to be reserved for one still more horrible j 
to be saved from the fury of the waves, which would 
swallow him up, and in a few seconds remove him 
from all pain and suffering, to perish for want of 
sustenance under a burning sun 3 to be withered — 
to be parched to death — calling in his agony for 
water : and as Francisco thought of this, he cover- 
ed his face with his hands, and prayed, Oh, God ! 
thy will be done ! but, in thy mercy, raise — still 
higher raise the waters 

But the waters did not rise higher. The howl- 
ing of the wind gradually decreased, and the foam- 
ing seas had obeyed the Divine injunction — they 
had gone so far, but no farther ! And the day dawn- 
ed, and the sky cleared 5 and the first red tints, an- 
nouncing the return of light and heat, had appeared 
on a broken horizon, when the eyes of the despair- 
ing youth were directed to a black mass on the 
tumultuous w'aters. It was a vessel, with but one 
mast standing 3 rolling heavily, and running before 
the gale right on the sandbank where he stood 3 her 
hull one moment borne aloft, and the next disap- 
pearing from his view in the hollow of the agitated 
waters. She will be dashed to pieces, thought 
Francisco 3 she will be lost — they cannot see the 
bank ! and he would have made a signal to her, if 
he had been able, to warn her of her danger, for- 
getting, at the time, his own desolate situation. 

As k'rancisco watched, the sun rose, bright and 
joyous, over this scene of anxiety and pain. On 
came the vessel flying before the gale : while the 
seas chased her as if they would fain overwhelm 


THE PIRATE. 93 

her. It was fearful to see her scud — agonizing to 
know that she was rushing to destruction. 

At last he could distinguish those on board. He 
waved his hand, but they perceived him not; he 
shouted, but his voice was borne away by the gale. 
On came the vessel, as if doomed. She was with- 
in two cables’ length of the bank, when those on 
board perceived their danger. It was too late ! — 
tliey rounded her to — another and another wave 
hurled her towards the sand. She struck ! — her 
only remaining mast fell over the side — and the 
roaring waves hastened to complete their work of 
destruction and of death. 


CHAPTER XI. 

THE ESCAPE. 

Francisco’s eyes were fixed upon the vessel, 
over which the sea now broke with terrific vio- 
lence. There appeared to be about eight or nine 
men on her deck, who sheltered themselves under 
the weather bulwarks. Each wave, as it broke 
against her side, and then dashed in foam over her, 
threw her, with a convulsive jerk, still farther on a 
sand-bank At last she was so high up, that their 
fury was partly spent before tliey dashed against 
her frame. Had the vessel been strong and well 
built 3 had she been a collier, coasting the English 
shores, there was a fair chance that she might have 
withstood the fury of the storm until it had subsid- 
ed, and that, by remaining on board, the crew might 
have survived ; but she was cf a very different 
mould, and, as Francisco justly surmised, an Amer- 


94 


THE PIRATE. 


icon brig, built for swift sailing, very sharp, and, 
moreover, very slightly put togetlier. 

Francisco’s eyes, as may easily be supposed, v/ere 
never removed from the only object wliicl) could 
now interest him — the unexpected appeir uice and 
imminent danger of his fellow creatures at this 
desolate spot. He perceived that two of the men 
went to tlie hatches, and slid them over to leeward : 
they then descended, and, although the seas broke 
over the vessel, and a large (juanlity of water must 
have poured into lier, the hatches were not ]»ut on 
again by those who remained on deck. Bui in a 
few minutes this mystery was solved; one after 
another at first, and then by dozens, poured forth 
out of the hold, the kidnapped Africans wlio com- 
posed her cargo. In a short time tiie decks were 
covered with them : the poor creatures had been 
released by the humanity of two of the English 
sailors, that they might have the same chance with 
themselves of saving their lives. Still, no attempt 
was made to quit the vessel. Huddled together, 
dke a flock of sheep, with the wild waves breaking 
over them, there they all remained, both European 
and African ; and, as the heavy blows of llie seas 
upon the sides of the vessel careened and shook 
her, they were seen to cling, in every direction, 
with no distinction between the captured and their 
oppressors. 

But tliis scene was soon changed ; the frame of 
the vessel could no longer withstand llic violence 
of the waves ; and, as Francisco watclied, of a sud- 
den it was seen to divide amidships, and c.ieli por- 
tion to turn over. Tlien avas a stru Tgle for life ; 
hundreds were floating on tlie raging clement and 
wrestling for existence, and the winte foam of tiio 
ocean avas dotted avith the black Imads of the ne- 
groes who attempted to gain the bank. It avr.s an 
aaaTul, terrible scene, to avitucss so many at one 
moment tossed and dashed about by tiie avaves — so 


THE PIRATE. 


95 


many fellow beings threatened with eternity. At 
one moment, they were close to the beach, forced 
on to it by some tremendous wave ; at the next, 
the receding w'ater and the undertow swept them 
all back ; and, of the many who had been swim- 
ming, one half had disappeared to rise no more. 
Francisco w^atched with agony as he perceived that 
the number decreased, and that none had yet gain- 
ed the shore. At last he snatched up the haulyards 
of his boat’s sail, w'hich were near nim, and hast- 
ened down to the spot to afibrd such succor as 
might be possible ; nor were his efforts in vain. As 
tlie seas washed the apparently inanimate bodies 
on shore, and would then have again sw'ept them 
away to return them in mockery, he caught hold 
of them and dragged them safe on the bank j and 
thus did he continue his exertions until fifteen of 
the bodies of the negroes were spread upon the 
beach. Although exhausted and senseless, they 
were not dead, and long before he had dragged up 
f^he last of their number, many of those previously 
sgved had, without any other assistance than the 
heat of the sun, recovered from their insensibility. 

Francisco would have continued his task of hu- 
manity ; but the parted vessel had now been riven 
into fragments by the force of the waves, and the 
whole beach was strewed wdth her timbers and her 
stores, which were dashed on shore by the waters, 
and than swept back again by the return. In a 
sliort time the severe blow's he received from these 
fragments disabled him from further exertion, and 
he sank exliausted on the sand : indeed, all further 
attempts were useless. All on board of the vessel 
had been launched into the sea at the same mo- 
ment, and those who were not now' on shore were 
past all succor. Francisco walked up to those 
who had been saved ; he found tw'elvc of them 
were recovered, and sitting on their hams j the 
rest were still in a state of insensibility, lie then 


'iili: PIRATE. 


% 


went up to the knoll; "(^’here liis chest and provisions 
had been placed, and, throwing himself down by 
them, surveyed the scene. 

The wind had lulled, the sun shone brightly, 
and the sea was much less violent. The waves had 
subsided, and, no longer hurried on by the force 
of the hurricane, broke majestically and solemnly, 
but not with the wildness and force which, but a 
few hours before, they had displayed. The whole 
of the beach was strewed with the fragments of the 
vessel, with spars and water-casks 5 and every mo- 
ment w'as to be observed the corpse of a negro tur- 
ning round and round in the froth of the wave, and 
then disappearing. 

For an hour did he watch and reflect, and then 
he w'alked again to where the men who had been 
rescued were sitting, not more than thirty yards 
from him : they w'cre sickly emaciated forms, but 
belonging to a tribe who inhabited the coast, and 
w'ho, having been accustomed, from their infancy, 
to be all the day in the water, had supported them- 
selves better than the other slaves, who had been 
procured from the interior, or the European crew 
of the vessel, all of whom had perislied. 

The Africans appeared to recover fast by the heat 
of the sun, so oppressive to Francisco, and w'ere 
now exchanging a few words wdth each other. The 
w'hole of them had revived, but those w'ho.,were 
most in need of air were neglected by the others. 
Francisco made signs to them ; but they understood 
him not. He returned to tlie knoll, and, pouring 
out w'ater in a tin pan from the breaker, brought it 
do’.vn to them. He offered it to one who seized it 
eagerly ; water was a luxuary seldom obtained in 
tlie hold of a slave-vessel. Tl.e man drank deeply, 
and would have drained the cup, but Francisco pre- 
vented him, and held it to the lips of another. He 
was obliged to refl it three times before they had 
a’] been supplied: he then brought them a handful 


THE PIRATE. 


97 


of buiscuit, and left them 5 for he reflected that, 
without some precautions, the whole sustenance 
would soon be seized by them and devoured. He 
hurried half a foot deep, and covered over with 
the breakers of water and the provisions, and, by 
the time he had finished this task unperceived by 
the negroes who still squatted together, the sun had 
again sunk below the horrizon. Francisco had al- 
ready matured his plans, which were to form a raft 
out of the fragments of the vessel, and, with the 
assistance of the negroes, attempt to gain the main 
land. He lay down, for the second night, on this 
eventful spot of desolation, and, commending him- 
self to the Almighty protection, was soon in a deep 
slumber. 

It was not until the powerful rays of the sun 
blazed on the eyes of the youth that he awoke, so 
tired had he been with the anxiety and fatigue of 
the preceding day, and the sleepless, harrowing 
night which had introduced it j he rose, and seated 
himself upon his sea-chest : how different was the 
scene from that of yesterday ! Again the ocean 
slept, the sky was serene, and not a cloud to be 
distinguished throughout the whole firmament 5 the 
horizontal line was clear, even, and well defined} 
a soft breeze just rippled over the dark blue sea, 
which now had retired to its former boundry, and 
left the sand-bank as extended as when first Fran- 
cisco had been put on shore. But here the beauty 
of the landscape terminated ; the foregraund was 
horrible to look upon} the whole of the beach Wcis 
covered with the timbers of the wreck, with water- 
casks and other articles, in some parts heaped and 
thrown up one upon another } and among them, lay 
jamed and mangled the bodies of the many who 
had perished. 

In other parts there were corpses thrown up high 
and dry, or still rolling and turning to the rippling 
wave : it was a scene of desolation and of death. 


98 


THE PIRATE. 


The negroes who had been saved were all hud- 
dled up together, apparently in deep sleep ; and 
Francisco quitted his elevated position, and walked 
down to the low beach to survey the means which 
the disaster of otliers afforded him for his own escape. 
To his great joy he found not only plenty of casks, 
but many of them full of fresh water, provisions 
also in sufficiency 5 and, indeed, every thing that 
could be required to form a raft, as well as the 
means of support for a considerable time, for him- 
self and the negroes who had survived. He then 
walked up to them, and called to them 3 but they 
answered not, nor even moved. He pushed them, 
but in vain j and his heart beat quick, for he was 
fearful that they were dead from previous exhaustion. 
He applied his foot to one of them} and it was not 
until he used force, which, in any other case, he 
would have dispensed with, that the negro awoke 
from his state of lethargy, and looked vacantly 
about him. Francisco had some little knowledge 
of the language of the Kroumen, and he addressed 
the negro in that tongue. To his great joy, he was 
answered in a language which, if not the same, had 
so great an affinity to it, that communication be- 
came easy. With the assistance of the negro, who 
used still less ceremony with his comrades, the re- 
mainder of them were awakened, and a palaver 
ensued. 

Fransisco soon made them understand that they 
were to make a raft, and go back to their own coun- 
try 5 explaining to them, that if they remained 
there, the water and provisions would soon be ex- 
hausted, and they would all perish. The poor crea- 
tures hardly knew whether to consider him a su- 
pernatural being or not 3 they talked among them- 
selves 3 they remarked at his having brought them 
fresh water the day before 3 they knew that he did 
not belong to the vessel in which they had been 
wrecked, and they were puzzle J. 


THE PIRATE. 


99 


Whatevsr might be tlieir speculations they had 
one good ettect, whicli was, that they looked up- 
on thq youtli as a superior and a friend, and most 
willingly obeyed him. He led them up to the knoll, 
and, desiring them to scrape away the sand, suppli- 
ed them again with fresh water and biscuit. Per- 
Jiaps the very supply, and the way in which it was 
given to them, excited their astonishment as much 
as .any thing. Francisco ate with them, and select- 
ing from his sea-chest the few tools in possession, 
desired them to follow him. The casks were col- 
lected and i-olled up ; the empty ones arranged for 
the ral't; tlie spars were hauled up, cleared of the 
rigging, wliich was carefully separated for lashings ; 
the one or two sails which had been found rolled up 
on the spars were spread out to dry; and the provi- 
sions and articles of clothing, which might be use- 
I'ul, laid together on one side. The negroes worked 
willingly, and showed much intelligence : before the 
evening closed, every thing which might be availa- 
ble w.as secured, and the waves now only tossed 
about lifeless forms and the fragments of timbers 
winch could not be serviceable. 

It would occupy too much time were we to de- 
tail all the proceedings of Irancisco and the ne- 
groes for the space of four days, during which they 
labored hard. Necessity is truly the mother of in- 
vention, and many were the ingenious resources of 
the party before they could succeed in formiiig a raft 
large enough to carry them and tlieir provisions, 
with a mast and sail well secured. At length it was 
accomplished ; and on the fifth day f'rancisco and 
his men embarked, and having pushed clear of the 
bank with poles, they were at last able to hoist their 
sail to a fine breeze, and steer for the coast before 
the wind at the rate of about three miles an liour. 
But it was not until they had gained half a milo 
from the banjc that they were no longer annoyed 
bv drcadihl .'inell arising from putrefaction cT so 


100 


THE PIRATE. 


many bodies, for to bury them all would have been 
a work of too great time. The last two days of 
their remaining on the island, the effluvia had be- 
come so powerful as to be a source of the greatest 
horror and disgust even to the negroes. 

But before night, when the raft was about eight 
leagues from the sandbank, it fell calm, and contin- 
ued so for the next day, when a breeze sprang up 
from the south-east, to which they trimmed their 
sail with their head to the northward. 

This wind, and the course steered, sent them off 
from the land, but there was no help for it, and 
Francisco felt grateful that they had such an ample 
supply of provisions and water as to enable them 
to yield to the few days’ contrary wind without dan- 
ger of want. But the breeze continued steady and 
fresh, and they were now crossing the bight of Be- 
nin 5 the weather was fine and the sea smooth; the 
flying fish rose in shoals, and dropped down into the 
raft, which still forced its way through the water to 
the northward. 

Thus did Francisco and his negro crew remain 
for a fortnight floating on the wide ocean without 
any object meeting their view. Day after day it 
was the same dreary “sky and water,’’ and, by the 
reckoning of Francisco, they could not be far from 
the land, when on the fifteenth day, they perceived 
two sail to the northward. 

Francisco’s heart bounded with joy and gratitude 
to Heaven; lie had no telescope to examine them, 
but he steered directly for them, and, about dark, 
he made them out to be a ship and a schooner hove 
to. 

As Francisco scanned them, surmising what they 
might be, the sun set behind the two vessels, and 
after it had sunk below the horizon their forms 
were, for a few minutes, delineated with remarkalle 
precision and clearness, 'i'lier® cculd be no mie- 
take. Francisco felt cmivincod that the scho-. ner 


THE PIRATE. 


101 


was the Avenger ! and the first impulse was to run 
the sweep with which they were steered, and put to 
the head of the raft again to the northward. A mo- 
ment’s reflection determined him to act otherwise j 
he lowered down his sail that he might escape ob- 
servation, and watched the motions of the vessel 
during the few minutes of light whicli remained. 
That the ship had been captured, and tliat her cap- 
ture had been attended with the usual scene of out- 
rage and violence, he had no doubt. He was now 
about four miles from them, and just as they were 
vanishing from his straining eyes he perceived that 
the schooner had made all sail to the westward. 
Francisco, feeling that he was secure from being 
picked up by her, again hoisted his sail, with the 
nope of reaching the ship, which, if not scuttled, 
he intended to remove on board of and then make 
sail for the first port on the coast. But hardly had 
the raft regained ner way when the horizon was 
lighted up," and he perceived that the pirates had 
set fire to the vessel. Then it was useless to pro- 
ceed towards her) and Francisco again thouglit of 
putting the head of the raft to the northward, when 
the idea struck him, knowing the character and 
cruelty of the pirates, that there might be some 
unfortunate people left on board to perish in the 
flames. He, therefore, continued his course, watch- 
ing the burning vessel ; tlie flames increased in vio- 
lence, mounted up to the masts, and catching the 
sails one after another. The wind blew fresh, and 
the vessel was kept before the wind — a circumstance 
that assured Francisco that there were people on 
board. At first she appeared to leave the raft, but, 
as her sails, one after another, were consumed by 
the element, so did she decrease her speed, and 
Francisco, in about an hour, was close upon her 
counter. 

The ship was now one mass of lire from her bows 
to her mainmast j a volume of flame poured from 


102 


THE PIRATE. 


her main holJ, rising liigher than her lower masts, 
and ending in a huge mass of smoke carried by the 
wind ahead of lier j the quarter-deck was still free 
from fire, but the heat on it vras so intense, that 
tliose on board were all collected at the tadVail 3 
and there they remained, some violent, others in 
mute despair, for the Avenger’s people, in their 
barbarity, had cut av/ay and destroyed all the boats 
to prevent their escape. From the light thrown 
round the vessel, these on board had perceived the 
approach of Francisco to their rescue, and immedi- 
ately that it was under the counter, and the sail 
lowered, almost all of th.em had descended by roper, 
or the stern ladder, and gained a place in her. In 
a few mimites, without scarcely an exchange of a 
word, they vrere all out of the brig, and Francisco 
pushed off just as the flames burst from the cab- 
in windows, darting out in a horizontal line like 
the tongues of fiery serpents. The ra.^;, now en- 
cuinbered with twelve more persons, was then 
steered to the northward ; and as soon as those 
wlio h.ad been saved had been supplied with some 
water wdiich they so much needed, Francisco, ob- 
tained the intelligence which he desired. The 
ship was from Carthagena, South America ; had 
sailed from thence to liisbon with a don Cumanos, 
who had large property up the Magdalen river. He 
had wished to visit a part of his family at Lisbon, 
and from thence had sailed to the Canary isles, 
where he also had property, in their way from Lis- 
bon to South America. Tliey had been beaten by 
stress of weather to tlie Southward, and afterwards 
liadbeen chased by the Avenger 3 being a very fast 
sailer, she had run down several degrees before she 
had been captured. When the pirate took posses- 
sion, and found that she had little or no cai-go of 
value to them, for her hold v/as chiefly filled with 
furniture and other articles for the use of don (.'u- 
mancs, angry at their disappointment, they had first 


THE PIRATE. 


103 


destroyed all their boats and then set fire to the 
vessel, taking care not to leave her until all chance 
of the fire being put out was hopeless. And thus 
had these miscreants left innocent and unfortunate 
people to perish. 

Francisco heard the narrative of don Cumanos, 
and then informed him in what manner he had left 
the schooner, and his subsequent adventures. Fran- 
cisco was now very anxious to make the land, or 
obtain succor from some vessel. The many who 
were now on board, and the time that he had al- 
ready been at sea, obliged him to reduce the allow- 
ance of water. Fortune favored him after all his tri- 
als 5 on the third day a vessel hove in sight, and 
they were seen by her. She made sail for them, 
and took them all on board. It w'as a schooner 
trafficking on the coast for gold-dust and ivory 3 
but the magnificent olfers of don Cumanos induced 
them to give up their voj'age, an'd run across the 
Atlantic to Carthagena. To Francisco it was 
of little moment where he went, and in don Cu- 
manos he had found a sincere friencL 

You have been my preserver,” said the Span- 
iard ; “ allow me to return the obligation — come 
and live with me.” 

As Francisco was equally pleased with don Cu- 
manos, he accepted the offer : they all arrived safe- 
ly at Carthagena, and from thence proceeded to his 
estate on the Magdalen river. 


104 


THE PIRATE. 


CH.APTER Xlt; 

THE LIEUTENANT. 

When we last mentioned Edward Teraplemore, 
we stated that he was a lieutenant of the admiral’s 
ship on the West India station commanding the 
tender. Now the name of the tender was the En- 
terprise 5 and it was singular that she was one of 
4avo schooners built at Baltimore, remarkable for 
their beauty and good qualities ; yet how different 
were their employments ! Both had originally 
been built for the slave-trade 5 now one hoisted the 
English pennant, and cruised as the Enterprise 5 
the other threw out the black flag, and scoured the 
seas as the Avenger. 

The Enterprise was fitted much in the same way 
as we have already described her sister vessel, — 
that is, with one long brass gun amidships, and 
smaller ones for her broadside. But in the num- 
bers of their crew there was a great disparity 5 tlie 
Enterprise not being manned with more than sixty- 
five English sailors, belonging to the admirals 
ship. She was employed as most admiral’s tenders 
usually were, sometimes carrying a tender made 
for a supply of provisions, or a tender of services, 
if required, from the admiral 5 or, if not particular- 
ly wanted, with the important charge of a tender 
billet-doux to some fair friend. But this is a ten- 
der subject to touch upon. In the mean time, it 
must be understood that she had the same commis- 
sion to sink, burn, and destroy, as all other of his 
majesty’s vessels, if any thing came in her way ; 
but, as she usually carried despatches, the real im- 
portance of which were, of course, unknown, she 
was not to go out of her way upon such service. 

Edward Templemore did, however, occasionally 


THE PIRATE. 


105 


go a little out of his way, and had lately captured 
a very fine privateer, after a smart action, for which 
he anticipated his promotion : but the admiral 
thought him too young, and therefore gave the 
next vacancy to Ins own nephew, who, the admiral 
quite forgot, was much younger. 

Edward laughed when he heard of it, upon his 
arrival at Port Royal 5 and the admiral, who ex- 
pected that he would make his appearance pouting 
with disappointment, when he came up to the penn 
to report himself, was so pleased with his good-liu- 
mor that he made a vow that Templemore should 
have the next vacancy 5 but this he also quite for- 
got, because Edward happened to be, at the time it 
occurred, on a long cruise, — and “ out of sight out 
of mind ” is a proverb so well established, that it may 
be urged as an excuse for a person who had so many 
other things to think of as the admiral intrusted with 
the command of the West India station. 

Lieutenant Templemore had in consequence, 
commanded the Enterprise for nearly two years^ 
and without grumbling 3 for he was of a happy dis- 
position, and passed a very happy sort of life. Mr. 
Witherington was very indulgent to him, and allow- 
ed him to draw liberaly 5 he had plenty of money 
for himself or for a friend who required it, and he 
had plenty of amusement. Amongst other diver- 
sions he had fallen most desperately in love : for, in 
one of his trips to the Leeward isles (so called 
from their being to windward) he had succored a 
Spanish vessel, which had on board the new gover- 
nor of Porto Rico, with his family, and had taken 
upon himself to land them on that island in safety 5 
for which service the English admiral received a 
handsome letter,concluding with the moderate wish 
that his excellency might live a thousand years, 
and Edward Templemore an invitation to go and 
see them whenever he might pass that way 3 which, 
like most general invitations, was as much a com- 


106 


THE PIRATE. 


pliment as the wish which wound up tlie letter to 
the admiral. It did, however, so happen that the 
Spanish Governor had a very beautiiul ana only 
daUjjhter, carel'ully guarded by a duenna, and a 
monk who was tlie depository of all the sins of the 
governor's establishment 3 and it was with this 
daughter that Edward Templemore fell into the 
heresy of love. 

She was, indeed, very beautiful ; and like all her 
countrywomen, was ardent in her atfections. The 
few days that she was on board the schooner with 
her father, during the time that the Enterprise con- 
voyed tlie Spanish vessel into port, were quite suf- 
ficient to ignite two such inflammable beings as 
Clara d’Alfarez and Edward Templemore. The 
monk had been lei't on board of the leaky vessel 3 
there was no accommodation in the schooner for 
either him or the duenna, and don Felix de Maxes 
de Cobas de Manilla dh'Vlfarez was too busy with 
his cigar to pay attention to his daughter. 

When they were landed, Edward Templemore 
was asked to their residence, which was not in the 
town, but at a lovely bay on tlie south side of the 
island. The town mansion was appropriated to 
business and the ceremony of the court 3 it was too 
hot for a permanent abode, and the governor only 
went there for a few hours each day. 

Edw'ard Templemore remained a short time at 
the island, and, at his departure, received the afore- 
mentioned letter from the father to the English ad- 
miral, and an assurance of unalterable fidelity from 
the daughter to the English lieutenant. On his re- 
turn he presented the letter, and the admiral w'as 
satisfied wAh his conduct. 

When ordered out to cruise, which he alvv'-ys 
was w'hen there was nothing else to do, he submit- 
ted to the admiral whether, if he should happen to 
be near Porto Rico, he could not leave an answer 
to the Spanish governor’s letter 3 and the admiral, 


THE PIRATE. 


107 


who knew the value of keeping np a good under- 
standing with foreign relations, took the hint, and 
gave him one to deliver, if convenient. The second 
meeting was, as may be supposed, more cordial 
than the first on the part of the young lady ; not so, 
however, on the part of the duenna and holy friar, 
who soon found out that their charge was in danger 
from heretical opinions. 

Caution became necessary 5 and, as secrecy adds 
a charm to an amour, Clara received a long letter 
and a telescope from Edward. The letter informed 
her that, whenever he could, he would make his 
appearance in his schooner off the south of the is- 
land, and await a signal matle by her at a certain 
window, acknowledging her recognition of his ves- 
sel. On the night of that signal, he would land in 
his boat, and meet her at an appointed spot. This 
was all very delightful 3 and it so happened that 
Edward had four or five times contrived, during the 
last year, to meet Clara without discovery, and 
again and again to exchange his vows. It was 
agreed between them that when he quitted the sta- 
tion, she should quit her father and her home, and 
trust her future happiness to an Englishman and a 
heretic. 

Tt may be a matter of surprise to some of our 
readers that the admiral should not have, discovered 
the frequent visits of tiie Enterprise to Porto Rico, 
as Edward was obliged to bring his log for examina- 
tion every time that he returned 5 but the admiral 
was satisfied with Edward’s conduct, and his anxie- 
ty to cruise when there was nothing else for him to 
do. His logs were brought on sliore to the admi- 
ral’s secretary carefully rolled and sealed up. The 
tdmiraPs secretary threw tiie packages on one 
side, and thcu^fit no more of tiie matter, and Ed- 
v/ard had always a ready story to tell when he took 
liis seat at the admiraPs dinner-table 3 besides, ha 
is a very unfit person to command a vessel who 


108 


THE PIRATE. 


does not know how to write a log that will bear an 
investigation. A certain latitude is always allowed 
in every degree of latitude as well as longitude. 

The Enterprise had been despatched to Antigua, 
and Edward thought this an excellent opportunity 
to pay a visit to Clarad’Alfarezj he therefore, upon 
his re turn, hove to off the usual headland, and soon 
perceived the white curtain thrown out of the 
window. 

“ There it is, sir,"' said one of the midshipmen 
who was near him — ^for he had been there so often 
that the whole cre^v of the Enterprise were aware 
of his attachment — “ she has throw'n her flag of 
truce." 

A truce to your nonsense, Mr. Warren," repli- 
ed Edward, laughing 3 “ how came you to know 
any thing about it ?" 

only judge by cause and effect, sir 5 and I 
know that I shall have to go on shore and wait for 
you to-night." 

That’s not unlikely 5 but let draw the foresheet3 
we must now get behind the headland." 

The youngster was right : that evening, a little 
before dark, he attended his commander on shore, 
the Enterprise lying to wdth a lantern at her peak. 

“ Once more, dearest Clara !" said Edward, as 
he threw off her long veil, and pressed her in his 
arms. 

“ Yes, Edward, once more — ^luit I am afraid only 
once more : for my maid, Inez, has been danger- 
ously ill, and has/Confessed to friar Ricardo. 1 fear 
much that, in her fright (for she thought that she 
was dying) she has told all. She is better now." 

“ Why should you imagine so, Clara ?" 

Oh, you know not what a frightened fool th.t 
Inez is when she is ill. Our religion is not like 
yours." 

''No, dear, it is not 5 but I will teach you a 
better." 


THE PIRATE. 


109 


'Hlush, Edward, you must n " — ’ 



virgin ! if friar Ricardo should 


that Inez must have told him, for he fixes his dark 
eyes upon me so earnestly. Yesterday he observed 
to me that I had not confessed.’’ 

“ Tell him to mind his own business.” 

“ That is his business, and I was obliged to con- 
fess to him last night. I told him a great many 
things, and then he asked me if that was all. His 
eyes went through me. I trembled as I uttered an 
untruth — for I said it was.” 

“ I confess my sins but to my Maker, Clara j 
and I confess my love but to you. Follow my plan, 
dearest ?” 

“ I will half obey you, Edward. I will not tell 
my love.” 

“ And sins you have none, Clara 5 so you will 
obey me in all.” 

“ Plush, PIdward, you must not say that. We 
all have sins 5 and, oh ! what a grievious sin they 
say it is to love you, who are a heretic ! Holy vir- 
gin, pardon me ! but 1 could not help it.” 

“ if that is your only sin, dearest, I can safely 
give you absolution.” 

Nay, Edward, don’t joke, but hear me. If Inez 
has confessed, tliey will look for me here ; and we 
must not meet again — at least not in this place. 
You knov/ the little bay behind the rock: — it is not 
much farther olF, and there is a cave where I can 
wait : another time it must be there.” 

“ It shall be there dearest 5 but is it not too near 
the beach ? will you not be afraid of the men in 
the boat, who must see you ?” 

” But we can leave the beach. It is Ricardo 
aloi’ .-, t’nat I am in dread of — and the donna Maria. 
Merciful Heaven! should my father know it all, we 
should bo lost 1 be separated forever !” and Clara 
laid her forehead on Edward’s shoulder, as her 
tears fell fast. 


110 


THE PIRATE. 


There is nought to fear, Clara. Hush ! I 
heard a rustling in those orange trees. Listen 1 ’’ 
Yes ! yes whispered Clara, hastily j there 
is some one ! Away ! dear Edward, away 

Clara sprang from his side, and hastened up the 
grove. Edward made his retreat} and Hying down 
the rocky and narrow path through the underwood, 
w’as soon on the beach and into his boat. The En- 
terprise arrived at head-quarters, and Edwai'd re- 
ported liimseif to the Admiral. 

I have work for you, Mr. Templemore,’' said 
the admiral ; “ you must be ready to proceed on 
service immediately. We’ve found your match.” 

■‘i hope 1 may lind her, sir,” replied the lieutenant. 

“ I hope so, loo 5 ibr, if you give a good account 
of her, it will put another swab on your shoulder. 
The pirate schooner which has so long infested the 
Atlantic, has been seen and chased, otf Barbadoes, 
by the Amelia } but it appears that there is not a 
vessel in the squadron which can come near her 
unless it be the Enterprise. She has since captur- 
ed two West Indiamen, and seen steering with 
them tow'ards the coast of Guiana. Now, 1 am go- 
ing to give you thirty additional hands, and send 
you after her.” 

‘•Thank you, sir,” replied Edward, his counte- 
nance beaming with delight. 

“ How soon will you be ready ?” inquired the 
admiral. 

“ I’o-morrow morning, sir.” 

“ Very good. Tell Mr. Hadley to bring me the 
order for the men, and your sailing orders, and I 
will sign them 3 but recollect, Mr. Templemore, 
you will have an awkward customer. Be prudent 
— brave 1 know you to be.” 

Edward Templemore promised every thing, as 
most people do in such cases 3 and, before the next 
evening, the Enterprise was well in the offing, un- 
der a heavy press rfsail. 


THE PIRATE. 


Ill 


CHAPTER XIII. 

THE LANDING. 

The property of don Cumanos, to which he had 
retired with his family, accompanied by Francisco, 
extended from the mouth of, to many miles up, the 
Magdalen river. It was a fine alluvial soil, form- 
ing one vast strip of rich meadow, covered with 
herds of cattle. The house was not a hundred 
yards from tlie banks of this magnificent stream, 
and a small but deep creek ran up to the adjacent 
buildings, — for don Cumanos had property even 
more valuable, being proprietor of a gold-mine near 
the town of Jambrino, about eighty miles farther 
up, and which mine had latterly become exceed- 
ingly productive. The ore was brought down the 
river in boats, and smelted in the outhouses near 
the creek to which we have just referred. 

It will be necessary to observe that the establish- 
ment of the noble Spaniard was numerous, consist- 
ing of nearly one hundred persons, employed in 
the smelting-houses, or attached to the household. 

For some time Francisco remained here happy 
and contented ; he had become the confidential su- 
perviser of don Cumanos’ household, proved him- 
self worthy of a trust so important, and \\as consid- 
ered as one of the family. 

One morning, as Francisco was proceeding down 
to the srnelting-house to open the hatches of the 
small decked boats which had arrived from Jam- 
brino with ore, and which were invariably secured 
with a padlock by the superintendent above, to 
which don Cumanos had a corresponding key, one 
of the chief men informed him that a vessel had 
a.i -hored oiT the mouth of the river the day before, 
an I wcigheil again early that morning, and that sho 
was standing off and on. 


^-115 THE PIRATE. 

*'■ From Carthagena, probably, beating up/’ re- 
plied Francisco. 

“ Valga me dois, if I know that, sir/’ said Diego. 

“ 1 should have thought nothing about it ; but Gia- 
como and Pedro, who went cut to fish last night, 
as usual, instead of coming back before midnight, 
have not been heard of since.” 

“ Indeed ! that is strange. Did they ever stay 
so long before V’ 

‘'Never, sir 5 and they have fished together now 
for seven years.” 

I’rancisco gave the key to the man, v.dio opened 
the locks of the hatches, and returned it. 

“ There she is !” cried the man ; the head-sails 
making their appearance as the vessel opened to 
their view from the projecting point, — distant about 
four miles. Francisco directed his eyes towards 
her, and, without further remark, hastened to the 
house. 

“ Well, Francisco !” said don Cumanos, who was 
stiring a small cup of chocolate, “ what’s the news 
this morning ?” 

“ The Nostra Senora del C-armen and the Aguilla 
have arrived, and 1 have just unlocked the hatches, 
'inhere is a vessel off the point which requires e.v- 
amination, and I have come for the telescope.” 

“ Requires examination ! Why, Francisco ?” 

“ Because Giacomo and Pedro, who went fishing 
last night, have not returned ; and there are no tid- 
ings of them.” 

“ That is strange ! But how is that connected 
with the vessel ?” 

“ That I will explain as soon as I have had an 
examination of her,” replied Francisco who had 
taken up the telescope, and was drawing out the 
tube. Francisco fixed the glass against the sill of 
the window', and examined the vessel some time in 
silence. 

“ Yes ! by the livin;r God ! it is the Avenger, and 


THE PIRATE. 113 

no other,” exclaimed he, as he removed the tele- 
scope from his eye. 

“ Eh V’ cried don Cumanos. 

It is tlse pirate vessel ! — the avenger ! — Pll for- 
feit my life upon it ! Don Cumanos, you must be 
prepared, I know that they have long talked of a 
visit to this quarter, and anticipate great booty ; 
and they have those on board who know the coast 
well. The disappearance of your two men con- 
vinces me that they sent up their boats last night 
to reconnoitre, and have captured them. Torture 
will extract the information which the pirates re- 
quire ; and I have little doubt but that lan attack 
will be made, when they learn how much bullion 
there is, at present, on your premises,” 

You may be right,” replied don Cumanos, 
thoughtlully ; “ that is, provided you are sure that 
it is the pirate vessel.” 

Sure, don Cumanos ! I know every timber and 
plank in her 5 there is not a rope or a block but 1 
can recognise. At the distance of four miles, with 
such a glass as this, 1 can discover every little va- 
riety in her rigging from other craft. I will swear 
to her,” repeated Francisco, once more looking 
through the telescope. 

And if they attack, Francisco ?” 

“ We must defend ourselves 3 and, I trust, beat 
them off. They will come in their boats, and at 
night. If they were to run in the schooner by 
daylight, and anchor abreast of us, we should have 
but a poor chance. But they little think that I am 
here, and that they are recognised. They will at- 
tack this night, I rather think.” 

And what do you then propose, Francisco ?” 

That we should send all the females away to 
don Teodora’s — it is but five miles — and call the 
men together as soon as possible. We are strong 
enough to beat them ofi‘, if we barricade the house. 
The'v cannot land more lhau from ninety to one 

8 


114 


THE riRATE. 


hundred men, as some must remain in charge of 
the schooner 5 and we can muster quite as many. 
It may be as well to promise our men a reward, if 
they do their duty.’’ 

That is all right enough 5 and the bullion we 
have here — ” 

'' Here we had better let it remain j it will take 
too much time to remove it, and, besides, will weak- 
en our force by the men who must be in charge of 
it. The outhouses must be abandoned, and every 
thing which is of consequence taken from them. 
Fire them they will, in all probability. At all 
events, we have plenty of time before us, if we be- 
gin at once.” 

Well, Francisco, I shall make you commandant, 
and leave the arrangements to you, while 1 go and 
speak to donna Isadora. Send for the men and 
speak to them ; promise them rewards j and act as 
if you were ordering upon your own responsibility.” 

I trust I shall prove myself worthy of your con- 
fidence, sir,” replied Francisco. 

“ Carambo !” exclaimed the old don, as he left 
the room, but it is fortunate you are here. ^Ve 
might all have been murdered in our beds.” 

Francisco sent for the head men of the establish- 
ment, and told them what he was convinced they 
would have to expect} and he then explained 10 
them his views. The rest were all summoned ; 
and Francisco pointed out to them the little mercy 
they would receive if the pirates were not repulsed, 
and the rewards which were promised by don Cu- 
manos if they did their duty. 

Spaniards are individually brave, and, encourag- 
ed by Francisco, they agreed that they would de- 
fend the property to the last. 

The house of don Cumanos was well suited to 
resist an attack of this description, in which mus- 
ketry only was expected to be employed. It was 
a long parallelogram of stone walls, with a wooden 


THE PIRATE. 


115 


veranda on the first floor, — ^for it was one story 
high. The windows on the first story were more 
numerous, but at the basement tliere were but two, 
and no other opening but the door in the whole line 
of building. It was of a composite arclietecture, 
between the .Morisco and the Spanisli. If the low- 
er part of the house, wJiich was of stone, could be 
secured from entrance, the assailants would, of 
course, fight under a great disadvantage. The win- 
dows below were tlie first secured, by piling a hea- 
vy mass of stones in tlie interior of tlie rooms 
against them, rising to the ceiling from a base like 
tlie segment of a jiyramid extending to the oppo- 
site side of the ciiaraber ; and every preparation 
was made for cfiectually barricading the door be- 
fore night. L/uiders wore then lixeil to ascend to 
the veranda, which was rendered musket-proof 
nearly as high as its railing, to protect the men. 
The don.na Isadora, and tlie woipcn of tiie the es- 
tablishment, were, in the ai’ternoon, despatched to 
don Teodora’s 3 and, at tlie request of f'rancisco, 
joined to the entreaties of donna Lsadora, don Cu- 
manos was persuaded to accompny them. The 
don called his men, and telling them that he left 
Francisco in command, expected them to do their 
duty 3 and then shaking hands, with him, the cav- 
alcade v.-as soon lost in the woods behind the nar- 
row meadows which skirted the river. 

There was no want of muskets and ammunition. 
Some were employed casting bullets, and others 
in examining the arms which had long been laid 
by. Before evening, all v.'as ready 3 every man had 
received his arms and ammunition 3 the flints had 
been inspected: and Francisco had time to pay 
more attention to the schooner, which had, during 
the day, increased her distance from the land, but 
was now .again standing in for t;ie sliore, Half an 
hour before dusk, when within tiiree mile.s, she 
wore round, and put her head to the ofling. 


116 


THE PIRATE. 


“ They’ll attack this night,” said Francisco ; “ I 
feel almost positive ; their yards and stay-tackles 
are up } all ready hoisting out the long-boat.” 

“ Let them come, senor j we will give them a 
waim reception,” replied Diego, the second iuau- 
thoiity. 

It was soon too dark to perceive the vessel. 
Francisco and Diego ordered every man, but five, 
into the house 5 the door was firmly barricaded, and 
some large pieces of rock which had been rolled 
into the passage, piled against it. Francisco then 
posted the five men down the banks of the river, 
at a hundred yards distant from each other, to give 
notice of the approach of the boats. It was about 
ten o’clock at night when Francisco and Diego de- 
scended the ladder, and went to examine their out- 
posts. 

‘ Senor,” said Diego, as he and Francisco stood 
on the bank of the river, “ at what hour is it your 
idea that these villains will make their attempt ?” 

That is difficult to say. If the same captain 
commands them who did when I was on board of 
her, it will not be until after tlie moon is down, 
which will not be till midnight ; but should it be 
any other who is in authority, they may not be so 
prudent” 

“ Holy virgin ! senor, were you ever on board 
that vessel ?” 

Yes, Diego, I was, and for a long time too ; 
but not with my own good will. Had I not been 
on board, I never should have recognised her.” 

Very true, senor; then we may thank the saints 
that you have once been a pirate.” 

“ 1 hope that I never was that, Diego,” replied 
Francisco, smiling; '* but I have been a witness to 
dreadful proceedings on board of that vessel, at the 
remembrance of which, even now, my blood cur- 
dles.” 

To pass away the time, P'rancisoo then detailed 


THE PIRATE 


117 


many scenes of horror to Diego which he had wit- 
nessed when on board of the Avenger } and he was 
still in the middle of a narrative when a musket 
was discharged by the foremost sentinal. 

Hark, Diego V’ 

Another and another, nearer and nearer to them, 
gave the signal that the boats were close at liand. 
In a few minutes the men all came in, announcing 
that the pirates were pulling up the stream in three 
boats, and were less than a quarter of a mile from 
the landing place. 

“ Diego, go to the house with these men, and see 
that all is ready said Francisco ; I will wait 
here a little longer : but do not fire till I come to 
you.'^ 

Diego and the men departed, and Francisco was 
left on the beach alone. 

In another minute the sound of the oars was 
plainly distinguishable, and Francisco’s ears were 
directed to catch, if possible, the voices. Yes,” 
thought he, “you come with the intentions of mur- 
der and and robbery; but you will, through me, be 
disappointed.” As the boats approached he heard 
the voice of Hawkhurst. The signal muskets fired 
had told the pirates that they were discovered, 
and that, in all probability, they would meet with 
resistance ; silence was, therefore, no longer of 
any advantage. 

“Oars! my lads — oars!” cried Hawkhurst. 

One boat ceased rowing, and soon afterwards the 
two others. The whole of them were now plainly 
seen by Francisco, at the distance of about one 
cable’s length from where he stood ; and the clear 
still night carried the sound of their voices along 
the water. 

“ Here is a creek, sir,” said Hawkhurst, “leading 
up to those buildings. W’ould it not be better to 
land there, as, if they are not occupied, they will 
prove a protection to us if we have a hard fight 
for it ?” 


118 


THE PIRATE 


‘^Very true, Hawkhurst,’’ replied a voice, which 
Francisco immediately recognised to be that of 
Cain. 

He is alive, then,’' thought Francisco, '‘and his 
blood is not yet upon my hands.” 

Give way my lads !” cried Hawkhurst. 

The boats dashed up the creek, and Francisco 
hastened back to the house. 

" Now, my lads,” said he, as he sprung up the 
ladder, “ you must be resolute 5 we have to deal 
with desperate men. I have heard the voices of 
the captain and chief mate j so there is no doubt 
as to its being the pirate. The boats are up the 
creek, and will land behind the out-buildings. 
Haul up these ladders, and lay them fore and aft 
on the veranda ; and do not fire without taking 
a good aim. Silence ! my men — silence ! Here 
they come.” 

The pirates were now seen advancing from the 
out-buildings in strong force. In the direction in 
which they came, it was only from the side of the 
veranda, at which not more than eight or ten men 
could be placed, that the enemy could be repulsed. 
Francisco, therefore, gave orders that as soon as 
some of the men had fired they should retreat and 
load their muskets, to make room for others. 

When the pirates had advanced halfway to the 
house, on the clear space between it and the out- 
buildings, Francisco gave the word to fire. The 
volley was answered by another, and a shout from 
the pirates, who, with Hawkhurst aird Cain at their 
head, now pressed on, but not until they had re- 
ceived a second discharge from the Spaniards, and 
the pirates had fired in return. As the Spaniards 
could not at first fire a volley of more than a dozen 
muskets at a time their opponents imagined their 
force to be much less than it really was. They 
now made other arrangements. They spread them- 
selves in a semicircle in front of the veranda, and 


THE PIRATE. 


119 


kept up a continued galling fire. This was return- 
ed by the party under Erancisco for nearly a quar- 
ter of an hour 5 and, as all the muskets were now 
called into action, the pirates found out that they 
had a more formidable enemy to cope with than 
they had anticipated. 

It was now quite dark, and not a figure was to 
be distinguished, except by the momentary flashing 
of the fife-arms. Cain and Hawkhurst, leaving their 
men to continue the attack, had gained the house, 
and a position under the veranda. Examining the 
windows and door, there appeared but little chance 
of forcing an entrance 5 but it immediately occur- 
red to them, that under tlie veranda their men 
would not be exposed, and that they might fire 
through the wooden floor of it upon those above. 
Hawkhurst hastened away, and returned with about 
h.ilf the men, leaving the others to continue their 
attack as before. The advantage of this manoeuvre 
was soon evident. The musket-balls of the pirates 
pierced the flanks, and wounded many of the Span- 
iards severely; and Francisco was at last obliged 
to order his men to retreat into the house, and fire 
out of the windows. 

But even this w'arfare did not continue ; for the 
supporting pillars of the veranda being of wood 
and very dry, they were set fire to by the pirates. 
Gradually the flames wound round them, and their 
forked tongues licked the balustrade. At last, the 
w'hole of The veranda was in flames. This was a 
great advantage to the attacking party, who could 
now distinguish the Spaniards without their being 
so clearly seen themselves. Many w'ere killed and 
wounded. The smoke and heat became so intense 
in the upper story, that the men could no longer 
remain there ; and, by the advice of fVancisco, they 
retreated to the basement of the house. 

“ What shall we do now', senor?” said Diego, 
with a grave face. 


120 


THE PIRATE. 


“Do?’' replied Francisco 5 ‘'they have burned 
the veranda, that is all. The house ■will not take 
fire; it is of solid stone ; the roof indeed may ; but 
still here we are. I do not see that they are more 
advanced than they were before. As soon as the 
veranda has burnt down, we must return above, and 
commence firing again from the Vvindows.” 

“ Hark, sir! they are trying the door.” 

They may try a long while ; they should have 
tried the door while the veranda protected them 
from our sight. As soon as it is burnt, we shall be 
able to drive tl.em away from it. I will go up again 
and see how things are.” 

No, senor, it is of no use. Why expose your- 
self now that the flames are so briglit ?” 

'' I must go and see if that is the case, Diego. 
Put all the wounded men in the north chamber; 
it will be the safest, and more out of the way.” 

Francisco ascended the stone staircase, and gain- 
ed the upper story. The rooms were filled with 
smoke and he could distinguish nothing. An oc- 
casional bullet whistled past him. He walked to- 
wards the windows, and sheltered himself behind 
the wall between them. 

The flames were not so violent, and the heat 
more bearable. In a short time, a crash, and then 
another, told him that the veranda had fallen in. 
He looked through the window. The mass of 
lighted embers had fallen down in front of the house, 
and had, for a time, driven away the assailants. 
Nothing was left of the veranda but the burning 
ends of the joists fixed in the wall above the win- 
dow's, and the still glowing remains of the posts 
which once supported it. 

But the smoke from below now cleared away, 
and the discharge of one or tw'o muskets told Fran- 
cisco that he was perceived by the enemy. 

'' Tlie roof is s^e,” thought he, as he withdrew 
frera the window'; " ard now' do I not know' wheth- 


THE PIRATE. 121 

er the loss of the veranda may not prove a gain 
to us.” 

What were the intentions of the pirates it was 
difficult to ascertain. For a time they left off fir- 
ing, and Fi'ancisco returned to his comrades. The 
smoke had gradually cleared away, and they were 
able to resume their position above 5 but as the 
pirates did not fire, they, of eourse, could do noth- 
ing, as it was only by the flashing of the muskets 
that the enemy was to be distinguished. No fur- 
ther attempts were made at the door or windows 
below; and Francisco in vain puzzled himself as 
to the intended plans of the assailants. 

Nearly half an hour of suspense passed away. 

Some of the Spaniards were of opinion that they 
had retreated to their boats and gone away, but 
Francisco knew them better. All he could do v/as 
to remain above, and occasionally look out to dis- 
cover their motions. Diego, and one or two more, 
remained with him ; the other men were kept be- 
low that they might be out of danger. 

“ Holy Francis ! but this has been a dreadful 
night, senor ; how many hours until daylight 
said Diego. 

“ Two hours at least, I should think,” replied 
Francisco; '^but the affair will be decided before 
that.” 

The saints protect us ! See, senor, are they 
not coming ?” 

Francisco looked through the gloom, in the di- 
rection of the out-buildings, and perceived a group 
of men advancing. A few moments and he could 
clearly make them out. 

Yes, truly, Diego ; and‘they have made ladders, 
which they are carrying. They intend to storm tlio 
windows. Call them all up; and now we must 
fight hard indeed.” 

The Spaniards hastened up and filled the room 
above, which had three windows in the front, look- 


122 THE PIRATE. 

ing towards the river, which had been sheltered by 
the veranda. 

“ Shall we fire, now, senor?^' 

“ No — no ; do not fire till your muzzles are at 
their hearts. They cannot mount more than two 
at a time at each window. Recollect, my lads, that 
you must now fight hard, for your lives will not be 
sj)ared 5 they will show no quarter and no mercy.” 

The ends of the rude ladders now made their ap- 
pearance above the sill of each window, Tliey had 
been hastily yet firmly constructed ; and were near- 
ly as wide as the windows. A loud cheer was fol- 
lowed by a simultaneous mounting of the ladders. 

Francisco was at the centre window, when Hav. k- 
hurst made his appearance, sabre in hand. He 
struck aside a musket aimed at him, and the ball 
vrhizzed harmless over the broad water of the river. 
Another step and he would have been in, wbeu 
Francisco fired his pistol : the ball entered the le't 
shoulder of Hawkhurst, and he dropped his hold. 
Before he could regain it, a .Spaniard charged at 
him with his musket, and threw him back. He 
fell, bearing down with him one or two of his com- 
rades, who had been following him up the ladder. 

Francisco felt as if the attack at that windov/ 
was of little consequence after the fall of Haw'k- 
hurst, whose voice he had recognised ; and l.e hast- 
ened to the one on the left, as he had heard Cain 
encouraging his men in that direction. He was not 
wrong in his conjecture ; Cain was at the window, 
attempting to force an entrance, but was opposed 
by Diego and other resolute men. But the belt of 
the pirate captain w'as full of pistols, and he had 
already fired three with effect. Diego and the two 
best men were wounded, and the others who op- 
p^osed him were alarmed at his giant proportions. 
Francisco rushed to attack him ; but what was the 
force of so young a man against the Herculean 
power of Cain? Still Francisco’s left hand was at 


THE PIRATE. 


123 


the throat of ti e pirate, and the pistol was pointed 
in his right, wlien the flash of another pistol, fired 
by one who Ibllowed Cain, threw its momentary 
vivid light upon tl;e features of Francisco, as he 
cried out “ Blood for blood !” It was enough : the 
pirate captain uttered a yell of terror at the sup- 
posed supernatural appearance ; and he fell from 
t!ie ladder in a fit amongst the still burning embers 
of the veranda. 

The fall of their two chiefs, and the determined 
resistance of the Spaniards, checked the impetuos- 
ity of the assailants, l^hey hesitated 5 and they at 
last retreated, bearing away with them their wound- 
ed. The Spaniards cheered, and, led by Francisco, 
followed them down the ladders, and, in their turn, 
became the assailants. Still the pirates’ retreat 
was orderly: they fired, and retired rank behind 
rank successively. I'hey kept the Spaniards at 
bay, until they had arrived at the boats 5 when a 
charge was made, and a severe conflict ensued. 
But the pirates had lost too many men, and without 
their commander, felt dispirited. Hawkhurst was 
still on his legs, and giving orders as coolly as ever. 
He es})ied Francisco, and rushing at him, while the 
two parties were opposed muzzle to muzzle, seized 
him by the collar and dragged him in amongst the 
pirates. “ Secure him at all events,” cried Hawk- 
hurst, as they slowly retreated and gained the out- 
houses. Francisco was overpowered and hauled 
into one of the boats, all of which in a few minutes 
afterwards were pulling with all their might to es- 
cape from the muskets of the Spaniards, who fol- 
lowed the pirates by the banks of the river, annoy- 
ing them in their retreat. 


124 


THE PIRATE. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

THE MEETING. 

The pirates returned to tlieir vessel discomfited. 
Those on board, who were prepared to hoist in in- 
gots of precious metal, had to receive naught but 
wounded men, and many of their comrades had re- 
mained dead on the shore. Their captain was 
melancholy and downcast. Hawkhurst was badly 
wounded, and obliged to be carried below as soon 
as he came on board. The only capture which 
they had made was their former associate Francisco, 
who by the last words spoken by Hawkhurst as lie 
was supported to his cabin, was ordered to be put 
into irons. The boats were hoisted in without 
noise, and a general gloom prevailed. All sail was 
then made upon the schooner, and, when the day 
dawned; she w'as seen by the Spaniards far away to 
the northward. 

The report was soon spread through the schooner 
that Francisco had been the cause of their defeat j 
and, althougli this was only a surmise, still, as 
they considered that, had he not recognised the 
vessel, the -Spaniards would not have been prepar- 
ed, they had good grounds for what had swelled 
into an assertion. He became therefore to many 
of them an object of bitter enmity, and they looked 
forward with pleasure to liis destruction, which Ids 
present coniincment they considered but the pre- 
cui'sor of. 

'‘Hist! massa Francisco!'” said a low voice 
near to where Francisco sat on the chest. Fran- 
cisco turned round and beheld the Krouman, his 
old friend. 

"Ah! Poinpey, ai'c you still on board?” said 
Francisco. 


THE PIRATE. 


125 


All ! no/"' replied the man. shaking his head j 
''some die — some get away — only four Kroumen 
left. Massa Francisco, how came you back again ! 
Every body tink you dead. I say no, not dead — ab 
charm with him — ab book.’' 

“ If that was my charm, I have it still,” replied 
Francisco, taking the Bible out of his vest} for^ 
strange to say, Francisco himself had a kind of 
superstition relative to that Bible, and had put it 
into his bosom previous to the attack made by the 
pirates. 

" Da,t very good, massa Francisco 5 den you quite 
safe. Here come Johnson — he very bad man. I 
go away.” 

In the mean time Cain had retired to his cabin 
witli feelings scarcely to be analyzed. He was in 
a bewildermejit. Notwithstanding the wound he 
had received bjt the hand of Francisco, he would 
never have sanctioned Hawkhurst putting him on 
shore oh a spot which promised nothing but a lin- 
gering and miserable death. Irritated as he had 
been by the young man’s open defiance, he loved 
him, loved him much more than he was aware of 
himself 3 and when he had recovered sufficiently 
from his wound, and had been informed where 
Francisco had been sent on shore, he quaiTclled 
with Hawkhurst, and reproached him bitterly and 
sternly, in language which Hawkhurst never forgot 
or forgave. The vision of the starving lad haunted 
Cain, and rendered him miserable. His affection 
for him, now that he was, as he supposed, lost for 
ever, increased with tenfold force 5 and since that 
period Cain had never been. seen to smile. He be- 
came more gloomy, more ferocious than before,and 
the men trembled when he appeared on deck. 

The apparition of Francisco after so long an in- 
terval, and in such an unexpected quarter of the 
globe, noted as wo have before described upon 
Cain. When he was tal.on to the boat he was still 


126 


THE PIRATE. 


confused in his ideas 5 and it was not until they 
were nearly on board, that he perceived tliat this 
young man was indeed at liis side. He could have 
fallen on his neck and kissed him ; for Fr.ancisco 
had become to him a capture more prized than all 
the wealth of the Indies. But one pure, good feel- 
ing was still unextinguishabie in the bosom of 
Cain; stained with every crime — with his hands so 
deeply imbrued in blood — at enmity' with all the 
rest of the world ; — that one feeling burnt bright 
and clear, and was not to be quenched. It might 
have proved a beacon light to steer liirn back to re- 
pentance and to good works. 

But there were other feelings v. hich also crowded 
upon the mind of the pirate captain. He knew 
Francisco's firmness and decision. By some inscru- 
table means, which Cain considered as supernatu- 
ral, Francisco had obtained the knowledge, and had 
accused him of his mother’s death. Would not the 
affection which he felt for the young man be met 
with hatred and defiance? He was but too sure that it 
would ; and then his gloomy, cruel disposition would 
reassume its influence, and he thought of revenging 
the attack upon his life. His astonishment at the 
reappearance of Francisco was equally great, 
and he trembled at the sight of him as if he was las 
accusing and condemning spirit. I'lius did he wan- 
der from one fearful fancy to another, until lie at 
last summoned up resolution to send for him. 

A morose dark man, whom Francisco had not 
seen when he was before in the schooner, cbeyed 
the commands of the captain. The irons were un- 
locked, and Francisco, was brought down into the 
cabin. The captain rose, and shut tl;e door. 

I little thought to see you here, Francisco,’’ 
said Cain. 

“ Probably not,’- replied Francisco, bcldly ; “ hut 
you have me again in in your power, and may now 
wreak your vengeance.” 


THE PIRATE. 


127 


I feel none, Francisco; nor would I have suf- 
fered you to have been put on shore as you were, 
had I known of it. Even now that our expedition 
has failed through your means, I feel no- anger to- 
wards you, althcugli I shall have some difficulty in 
preserving you from the enmity of others. Indeed, 
Francisco, I am glad to find that you are alive, and 
I have bitterly mourned your loss;” and Cain ex- 
tended his hand. 

But Francisco folded his arms and was silent. 

‘‘ Are you then so unforgiving ?” said the captain • 

You know that I tell the truth.” 

“ I believe that you state the truth, captain Cain, 
for you are too bold to lie ; and, as far as I am con- 
cerned, you have all the forgiveness you may wish ; 
but I cannot take that hand — nor are our accounts 
still settled.” 

What would you more ? Cannot we be friends 
again ? I do not ask you to remain on board. You 
are free to go where you please. Come, Francisco, 
take my hand, let us forget what is passed.” 

“ The hand that is imbrued with my mother's 
blood, perhaps !” exclaimed Francisco — “n^ver !” 

Not so, by God !” exclaimed Cain. “No, no; 
not quite so bad as that. In my mood I struck 
your mother, I grant it. I did not intend to injure 
her, but I did, and she died. I will not lie — that is 
the fact ; and it is also the fact that I wept over 
her, Francisco, for I loved l.cr as I do you. (It was 
a hasty, bitter blow, that,” continued Cain, solilo- 
quizing, with his hand to his forehead, and uncon- 
scious of Francisco’s presence at the moment. “It 
made me what I am, for it made mo reckless.) 
Francisco,” said Cain, raising his head, “ I was 
bad, but I was no pirate when your mother lived. 
There is a curse upon me ; that which I love most 
I treat the worst. Of all the world I loved your 
mother most — ^j'et did she from me receive most 
injury, and at last I caused her death. Next to 


128 


THE PIRATE. 


your mother, whose memory I at ouce revere and 
love, and tremble when I think of — and each night 
dees slie appear to me — I have loved you Francis- 
co — for you, like her, liave an angeFs feelings j yet 
have I treated you as ill. You thwarted me, and 
you were right. Had you been wrong 1 had not 
cared, but you ■were riglit, and it maddened me^ — 
your appeals by day — your motlier’s in my dreams.'' 

Francisco's heart v/as softened 5 if not repen- 
tance, there was at least contrition. Indeed, I 
pity you," replied Francisco. 

“ You must do more, Francisco j you must be 
friends with me," said Cain, again extending his 
hand. 

“ I cannot take that hand — it is too deeply dyed 
in blood," replied Francisco. 

“ Well, well, so would have said your mother. 
But hear me, Francisco," said Cain, lowering his 
voice to a whisper, lest he should be overheard — 

I' am tired of this life — perhaps sorry for what I 
have done — I wish to leave it^ — have wealth in 
plenty concealed where others know it not. Tell 
me, Francisco, shall we both quit this vessel, and 
live together happily and without doing wrong 7 
You shall share all, Francisco. Say, now, does 
that please you 7" 

Yes j it pleases me to hear that you will aban- 
don your lawless life, captain Cain; but share your 
W’ealth I cannot, for how has it been gained!" 

‘‘ It cannot be returned, Francisco ; I will do 
good with it, 1 will, indeed, Francisco. I — ^wdll 
— repent again the hand was extended. 

Francisco hesitated. 

“ I do — so help me God ! I do repent, Francisco," 
exclaimed the pirate captain. 

And I, as a Christian, do forgive you all," repli- 
ed Francisco, taking the still extended hand. ‘‘May 
God forgive you, loo !" 


THE PIRATE. 129 

** Amen !” replied the pirate, solemnly, covering 
his face up in his hands. 

In this position he remained some minutes.Fran- 
cisco watching him in silence. At last the face 
was uncovered, and to the surprise of Francisco, a 
tear was on the cheek of Cain, and his eyes 
suffused with moisture. Francisco no longer wait- 
ed for the hand to be extended ; he walked up to 
the captain, and, taking him by the hand, pressed it 
warmly. 

“ God bless you, boy ! God bless you said Cainj 
“ but leave me now.'' 

Francisco returned on deck with a light and 
grateful heart. His countenance at once told those 
who were near him that he was not condemned, 
and many who dared not before take notice of, now 
saluted him. The man who had taken him out of 
irons looked round j he was a creature of Hawk- 
hurst, and he knew not how to act. Francisco ob- 
served him, and with a wave of his hand ordered 
him to go below. That Francisco was again in au- 
thority was instantly perceived ; and the first proof of 
it was, that the new second mate reported to him 
that there was a sail on the weather bow. 

Francisco took the glass to examine her. It was 
a large schooner under all sail. Not wishing that 
any one should enter the cabin but himself, he 
went down to tlie cabin-door, and knocked before 
he entered, and reported the vessel. 

“ I'liank you, Francisco 3 you must take Hawk- 
hurst's duty for the present — it shall not be for long; 
and fear not that I shall make another capture. I 
swear to you I will not, Francisco. But this schoo- 
ner — 1 know very well what she is : she has been 
looking after us some time : and a week ago, Fran- 
cisco, I was anxious to meet her that I might shed 
more blood. Now, I will do all I can to avoid her, 
and escape. I can do no more, Francisco. I must 
not be taken." 


9 


130 


THE PIRATE. 


There I cannot blame you. To avoid her will 
be easy I should think j the Avenger outsails every 
thing.” 

Except, I believe the Enterprise, which is a 
sister vessel. By heavens ! it’s a fair match,” con- 
tinued Cain, his feelings of combativeness leturn- 
ing for a moment ; “ and it will look like a craven 
to refuse the fight ; but fear not, Francisco — I have 
promised you, and I shall keep my word.” 

('ain went on deck, and surveyed the vessel 
through the glass. 

Yes, it must be her,” said he aloud, so as to be 
heard by the pir.ates ; she has been sent out by the 
admiral on purpose lull of his best men. What a 
pity we are so short-handed !” 

There’s enough of us, sir,” observed the boat- 
swain. 

“ Yes,” replied Cain, if there w'as any thing 
but hard blows to be got; but that is all, and I 
cannot spare more men. Ready, about !” continued 
he, walking aft. 

The Enterprise, for she was the vessel in pursuit, 
was then about five miles distant, steering for the 
Avenger, who was on a wind. As soon as the Aven- 
ger tacked, the Enterprise took in her topmast 
studding-sail, and hauled her wdnd. This brought 
the flnterprisc well on the weather-quarter of the 
Avenger, who now made all sail. The pirates, who 
had quite enough of fighting, and w'ere not stimu- 
lated by the presence of Hawkhurst, or the wishes 
of their ca})tain, now showed as much anxiety to 
avoid as they usually did to seek a combat. 

At the first trial of sailing between the two 
schooners there was no perceptible difierence ; for 
half an hour they both continued on a wind, and, 
when Edward Templemore examined his sextant a 
second time, he could not perceive that he had 
gained upon the Avenger one cable’s length. 

We will keep away Inlf a point,” said Edward 


THE PIRATE. 131 

to his second in command. We can afford that, 
and still hold the weather-gage.” 

The Ehterprise was kept away, and increased her 
speed : they neared the Avenger more than a quar- 
ter of a mile. 

'^Thcy are nearingus” observed Francisco } ^^we 
must keep away a point.” 

Away went the A venger, and would have recov- 
ered her distance, but the Enterprise was again 
steered more off the Mund. 

'I'hus did they continue altering their course un- 
til the studding sails below and aloft were set by 
both, and the position of the schooners was chang- 
ed 3 the Enterprise now being on the starboard in- 
stead of the larboard quarter of the Avenger. The 
relative distance between the two schooners w’as, 
however, nearly the same, that is about three miles 
and a half from each other 5 and there was every 
prospect of a long and w'eary chase on the part of 
the Enterprise, who again kept away a point to 
necjr the Avenger. Both vessels were -now running 
to the eastward. 

It was about an hour before dark that another sail 
hove in sight right ahead of the Avenger, and was 
clearly made out to be a frigate. The pirates were 
alarmed at this unfortunate circumstance, as there 
w.as little doubt but that she would prove a British 
cruiser 3 and, if not, they had equally reason to ex- 

f )ect that she would assist in their capture. Siie 
lad evidently perceived the two schooners, and had 
made all sail, tacking every quarter of an liour so 
as to keep her relative position. The Enterprise, 
who had also made out the frigate, to attract her 
attention, although not within range of the Avenger, 
commenced liring with her long gun. 

“ This is rather awkward,” observed Cain. 

It will be dark in less than an hour,” observed 
Francisco 3 and that is our only chance.” 

Cain redeoted a minute. 


132 


THE PIRATE. 


Get the long giin ready, my lads ! We will re- 
turn her fire, Francisco, and hoist American colors 5 
that will puzzle the frigate at ail events, and the 
night may do the rest.” 

The long gun of the Avenger was ready. 

1 would not fire the long gun,” observed Fran- 
cisco ; “ it will show our force, and will give no 
reason for our attempt to escape. Now, if we were 
to fire our broadside guns, the difference of report 
between them and the one of large calibre fired by 
the other schooner, would induce them to think that 
we are an American vessel.” 

Very true,” replied Cain ; “ and as America is 
at peace with all the world, that our antagonist is a 
pirate. Hold fast the long gun, there ! and unship 
the starboard ports. See that that ensign blows out 
clear.” 

The Avenger commenced firing an occasional 
gun from her broadside, the reports of which were 
hardly to be heard by those on board of the frigate ; 
while the long gun of the Enterprise reverberated 
along the water, and its loud resonance was swept 
by the wind to the frigate to leeward. 

“ Such was the state of affairs when the sun sank 
down in the wave, and darkness obscured the ves- 
sels from each other's sight, except with the assist- 
ance of night telescopes. 

“ What do you propose to do, captain Cain I” 
said Francisco. 

“ I have made up my mind to do a bold thing ; I 
will run down to tne frigate as if for shelter j tell 
him that the other vessel is a pirate, claim his pro- 
tection. Leave me to escape afterwards j the moon 
will not rise till nearly one o’clock.” 

That will be a bold nise indeed ; but suppose 
you are once under iier broadside, and she suspects 
you ?” 

'‘Then I ''il! show her my heels. I sheu’d caie 


THE PIRATE. 133 

nothing for hor and her broadside if the schooner 
was not here.’' 

In an hour after dark, the Avenger was close to 
the frigate, having steered directly for her. She 
shortened sail gradually, as if she had hut few hands 
on board ; and, keeping his men out of sight, Cain 
ran under the stern of the frigate. 

Schooner, ahoy ! What schooner is that ?” 

Eliza of Baltimore, from Carthagena,” replied 
Cain, rounding to under the lee of tlie man-of-war, 
and then continuing; “That vessel in chase is a 
pirate. Shall I send a boat on board 

“ No : keep company with us.” 

“ Ay, ay, sir,” replied Cain. 

“ Hands, about ship !” now resounded with the 
boatswain’s whistles on board of the frigate, and in 
a minute they were on the other tack. The Aven- 
ger also tacked and kept close under the frigate’s 
counter. 

In the mean time, Edward Templemore and 
those on board of the Enterprise, who by the course 
steered had gradually neared them, perceived tlie 
motions of the two other vessels, were quite puz- 
zled. At one time they thought they had made a 
mistake, and that it was not the pirate vessel 5 at 
another they surmised that the crew had mutined 
and surrendered to the frigate. Edward hauled his 
wind, and steered directly for them, to ascertain 
what the real facts were. The captain of the fri- 
gate, w'ho had never lost sight of either vessel, was 
equally astonished at the boldness of the supposed 
pirate. 

“ Surely the rascal does not intend to board us,” 
said he to the first lieutenant. 

“ I’hcre is no saying, sir ; you know what a char- 
acter he has : and some say there are three hun- 
dred men aboard, which is equal to our ship’s com- 
pany.” 

“ Or, perhaps, sir, he will pass to windward of us, * 


134 THE PIRATE. 

and give us a broadside, and be off in the wind’s 
eye again.” 

At all events w'e will have a broadside ready 
for him,” replied the captain. ‘‘ Clear away the 
starboard guns, and take out the toinpious. Pipe 
starboard watch to quarters.” 

The Enterprise closed with the frigate to wind- 
ward, intending to run round her stern and bring 
to cn the same tack. 

“ He does not shorten sail yet, sir,” said the firm 
lieutenant, as the schooner appeared skiining along 
about a cable’s lenth on their weather bow. 

“ .A.nd she is full -of men, sir,” said the master, 
looking at her through the night-glass. 

1- ire a gun at her !” said the captain. 

Rang 1 The smoke cleared away, and the schoo- 
ner's foretopsail, which she was in the act of clew- 
ing up, lay over her side. The shot had struck the 
Ibremast of the Enterprise, and cut it in two below’ 
the catharpings. The Enterprise was, for the time, 
completely disabled. 

Schooner ahoy ! what schooner is that ?” 

His majesty’s schooner Enterprise.” 

Send a boat on board immediately.” 

Ay, ay, sir.” 

“ Turn the hands up. b Shorten sail 

The top-gallants abd epureers of the frigate were 
taken in, and the mainsail Hove to the mast. 

“ Signalman, whereabouts is that other schooner 
now ?” 

‘‘ The schoooner, sir? On the quarter,” replied 
the signalman, who, with everybody else on board, 
Avas so anxious about the Enterprise, that they had 
neglected to watch the motions of tlie supposed 
American. The man had replied at. random, and 
he now jumped upon the signal chests abaft to look 
for her. But she was not to be seen. Cain, who 
had w atched all that pa.ssed between the other two 
vessels, and had been prepared to slip off at a pao- 


THE PIRATE. 


135 


ment’s warning, as soon as the gun was fired at the 
other schooner, had wore round and made all sail 
on a wind. The night-glass discovered her half a 
mile astern j and the ruse was immediately per- 
ceived, The frigate filled and made all sail, leaving 
Edward to return on board — for there was no time 
to stop for the boat — tacked, and gave chase. But 
the Avenger was soon in the wind’s eye of her j 
and at daylight was no longer to be seen. 

In the mean time Edward Templemore had fol- 
lowed the frigate as soon as he could set sail on his 
vessel, indignant at his treatm^t and vowing that 
he would demand a court-martial. About noon the 
frigate rejoined him, when matters were fully ex- 
plained. Annoyed as they all felt at not having 
captured the pirate, it was unanimously agreed, that 
by his audacity and coolness he deserved to escape. 
It was found that the mast of the Enterprise could 
be fished and scarfed, so as to enable her to contin- 
ue her cruise. The carpenters of the frigate were 
sent on board j and in two days the injury was re- 
paired, and Edward Templemore once more went 
in pursuit of the Avenger. 


CHAPTER XV. 

THE MISTAKE. 

The Avenger stood under a press of sail to the 
northward. She had left her pursuers far behind ; 
and there was not a speck on the horizon, when, 
on the second morning, Francisco, who had resum- 
ed his berth in the captain’s cabin, went up on deck. 
Notwithstanding the request of Cain, Francisco re- 


136 


THE PIRATE. 


fused to take any part in the command of the schoo- 
ner, considering himself as a passenger, or prisoner 
on parole. He had not been on deck but a few 
minutes, when he observed the two Spanish fisher- 
men belonging to the establishment of don Cuma- 
nos, conversing together forward. Their capture 
had quite escaped his memory, and he went for- 
ward to speak to' them. Their surprise at seeing 
him was great until Francisco informed them of 
what had passed. They then recounted wliat had 
occurred to them, and showed their thumbs, which 
had been put into screws to torture from them the 
truth. Francisco shuddered, but consoled them, pro- 
mising that they should soon be at liberty, and re- 
turn to their former master. 

As Francisco returned from forward, he found 
Hawkhurst on the deck. Their eyes met and 
flashed in enmity. Hawkhurst was pale from loss 
of blood, and evidently suffering 5 but he had been 
informed of the apparent reconciliation between 
Francisco and the captain, and he could no longer 
remain in his bed. He knew also how the captain 
had avoided the combat with the Enterprise ; and 
something told him that there was a revolution ot 
feeling in more than in one point. Suffering as he 
was, he resolved to be a spectator of what passed, 
and to watch narrowly. For both Francisco and 
Cain he had imbibed a deadly hatred, and was 
watching for an opportunty to wreak his revenge. 
At present they were too powerful ; but he felt that 
the time was coming when he might be triumph- 
ant. 

Francisco passed Hawkhurst without speaking. 

“ You are at liberty again, I see,’’ observed Hawk- 
hurst, with a sneer. 

“ I am not, at all events, indebted to you for it,” 
replied Francisco, haughtily 5 ^'nor for my life, ei- 
ther.” 

“No, indeed; but I believe that I am indebted to 


THE PIRATE. 137 

you for this bullet in my shoulder/' replied the mate. 

“ You are/' replied Francisco, cooly. 

And, depend upon it, the debt shall be repaid 
with usury.'' 

“ I have no doubt of it, if it ever is in your pow- 
er} but I fear you not." 

As Francisco made this reply,, the captain came 
up the ladder. Hawkhurst turned away and walk- 
ed forward. 

There is mischief in that man, Francisco," said 
the captain, in an under tone 5 ‘‘ I hardly know 
whom to trust j but he must be watched. He is 
tampering with the men, and has been for some time j 
not that it is of much consequence, if he dees but 
remain quiet for a little while. The command of 
this vessel he is welcome to very soon 5 but, if he 
attempts to early — " 

''I have those I can trust to," replied Francisco. 

Let us go below." 

Francisco sent for Pompey the Krouman, and 
gave him his directions in the presence of the cap- 
tain. That night, to the surprise of all, Hawkhurst 
kept his watch j and, notwithstanding the fatigue, 
appeared every day to be rapidly recovering from 
his wound. 

Nothing occurred for several days, during which 
the Avenger still continued her course. What the 
captain's intentions were did not transpire 5 they 
were known only to Francisco. 

We are very short of water, sir," reported 
Hawkhurst, one morning : “ shall we have enough 
to last us to where we are going ?" 

“ How many days of full allowance have we on 
board ?" 

^‘Not above twelve at the most." 

Then w'e must go on half allowance," replied 
Cain. 

“ The ship’s company wish to know where we 
are going, sir." 


138 


THE PIRATE. 


Have they deputed you to ask the question 1” 

“Not exactly, sir; but I wish to know myself,” 
replied Hawkhurst, with an insolent air. 

“ Turn up the hands,” replied Cain ; “ as one of 
the ship’s company, under my orders, you will, 
with the others, receive the information you re- 
quire.’’ 

The crew of the pirate collected aft. 

“ My lads !” said Cain, “ 1 understand from the 
first mate, that you are anxious to know where you 
are going ? In reply, 1 acquaint you that, having 
so many w'cunded men on board, and so much plun- 
der in the hold, I intend to repair to cur rendez- 
vous when we were f'crmerly in this part of the 
world — the Caitor.. Is there any other question 
you may wdsh to ask of me 

“ Yes,” replied Haw'khurst ; “ we wash to know 
what your intentions are relative to that young man, 
Francisco ? We have lost immense wealth ; we 
have now thirty men wounded in the hammocks, 
and nine we left dead on the shore ; and I have a 
bullet through my body ; all w hich has been occa- 
sioned by him. We demand justice.” 

Here Hawkhurst was supported by several of the 
pirates ; and there were many voices which repeat- 
ed the cry of “justice!” 

“ My men ! you demand justice, and you shall 
have it,” replied Cain. “ This lad you all know 
well ; 1 have brought him up as a child. He has 
always disliked our mode of life, and has often re- 
quested to leave it, and has been refused. He chal- 
lenged me by our own laws, ‘ blood for blood !’ 
He w'ounded me ; but he was right in his chal- 
lenge, and, therefore, I bear no malice. Had 1 been 
aw'are that he was to have been sent on shore to die 
with hunger, I would not have permitted it. What 
crime had he committed ? Ivone ; or, if any, it was 
against me. He was then sentenced to death for 
no crime, and vou yourselves exclaimed against it. 
Is it not true 


THE PIRATE. 


139 


''Yes, yes,’’ replied the majority of the pirates. 

“ By a miracle he escapes, and is put in charge 
of another man’s property. There w is no crime in 
defending that property. He is made a prisoner, 
and now you demand justice. You shall liavc it. 
Allowing that his life is forfeit for this oTence, y^u 
have already sentenced him, and left him to death 
unjustly ; and therefore are bound in justice to ^ive 
his life in this instance. I ask it, my men, not only 
as his rie^ht, but as a favor to your captain.” 

Agreed ! it’s all fair!” exclaimed the majority 
of the pirate’s crew. 

" My men, I thank you,” replied Cain ; '' and, in 
return, as soon as we arrive at the Caicos, my 
share of the plunder on board shall be divided 
among you.” 

This last observation completely turned the ta- 
bles in favor of the captain: and those who had 
joined Ilawkhurst, now sided with the captain. 
Ilawkhurst looked like a demon. 

" Let those who choose to be bought off, take 
your money,” replied he ; “but 1 will not. Blood 
for blood 1 will have ; and so I give you your war- 
ning. That lad’s life is mine,and have it I will ! Pre- 
vent me if you can !” continued the mate, holding 
up his clenched hand, and shaking it almost in the 
pirate captain’s face. 

The blood mantled even to the forehead of Cain. 
One moment he raised himself to his utmost height, 
then siezing a handspike which lay near, he felled 
Hawkhurst to the deck. 

“ Take that for your mutiny !” exclaimed Cain, 

f litting his foot on Hawkhurst’s neck. “ My lads, 
appeal to you : is this man worthy to be in com- 
mand, as maV ? T? ho to live ?” 

“ No! no !” cried the pirates : “ death I” 
Francisco stepped forward. ''My men, you 
have granted your captain one favor j grant me 
another — which is the life of this man. Recollect 


140 


THE PIRATE. 


how often he has led you to conquest, and how 
brave and faithful he has been until now ! Recol- 
lect that he is suffering under his wound, which 
has, made him irritable. Command you, he cannot 
any longer, as he will never have the confidence 
of your captain j but let him live, and quit the 
vessel.’’ 

“ Be it so, if you agree,” replied Cain, looking 
at the men ; I do not seek his life.” 

The pirates consented. Hawkhurst rose slowly 
from the deck, and was assisted below to his cabin. 
The second mate was then appointed as the first, 
and the choice of the man to fill up the vacancy 
was left to the pirate crew. 

For three days after this scene all was quiet and 
orderly on board of the pirate. Cain, now that he 
had more fully made up his mind how to act, im- 
parted to Francisco his plans ; and his giving up to 
the men his share of the booty still on board, was, 
to Francisco, an earnest of his good intentions. 
A cordialitv, even a kind of feeling which never 
existed before, was created between them; but of 
Francisco’s mother, and the former events of his 
own life, the pirate never spoke. Francisco more 
than once put questions on the subject ; the an- 
swer was,' — “ You shall know some of these days, 
Francisco ; but not yet: you would hate me too 
much !” 

The Avenger was now clear of the English isles, 
and, with light winds, running down the shores of 
Porto Rico. In the evening of the day on which 
they had made the land, the scliooner was becalm- 
ed about three miles from the shore, and the new 
first mate proposed that he should land in the boat, 
and obtain a further supply of water, from a fall 
which they had discovered with their glasses. As 
this was necessary. Cain gave his consent, and the 
boat quitted the vessel full of breakers. 

Now, it happened that the Avenger lay becalm- 


THE PIRATE. 


141 


ed abreast of the country seat of don d’Alfarez, the 
governor of the island. Clara had seen the schoo- 
ner ; and, as usual, had thrown out the white cur- 
tain as a signal of recognition; for there was no 
perceptible difference, even to a sailor, at that dis- 
tance, between the .Wenger and the Enterprise. 
She had hastened down to the beach, and hurried 
into the cave, awaiting the arrival of Edward 
Templemore. The pirate boat lauded at the very 
spot of rendevouz, and the mate leaped out of the 
boat. Clara flew to receive her Edward, and was 
instantly siezed by the mate, before she discovered 
her mistake. 

“ Holy virgin ! who and what are you !’’ cried 
she, struggling to disengage herself. 

“ One who is very fond of a pretty girl replied 
the pirate, still detaining her. 

“ Unhand me, wretch \” cried Clara ; are you 
aware whom you are addressing 

“ JVot I ! nor do I care,” replied the pirate. 

''You will, perhaps, sir, when you learn that I 
am the daughter of the governor I” exclaimed Clara, 
pushing him away. 

“ Yes ! by heavens ! you are right, pretty lady, 
I do care ; for a governor’s daughter will fetch a 
good ransom at all events. So come, my lads, a 
little help here ; for she is as strong as a young 
mule. Never mind the water, throw the break- 
ers into the boat again ! we have a prize worth ta- 
king!” 

Clara screamed ; but she was gagged with a 
handkerchief, and lifted into the boat, which imme- 
diately rowed back to the schooner. 

When the mate came on board and reported his 
capture, the ])irates were delighted at the pros- 
pect of addition to their prize-money. Cain could 
not, of course, raise any objections : it would have 
been so different from his general practice, that it 
would have strengthened suspicions already set 


14.2 


THE PIRATE. 


afloat by Hawkhurst, which Cain was most anxious 
just then to remove. He ordered the girl to be 
taken dov/n into the cabin, hoisted in the boat, and 
the breeze springing up again, made sail. 

In the mean time Francisco was consoling the 
unfortunate Clara, and assm-ing her that she need 
be un ler jio alarm j promising her protection from 
him elf and the captain. 

The poor girl wept bitterly 5 and it was not until 
Cain came down into the cabin, and corroborated 
the assurances of Francisco, that she could assume 
any degree of composure ; but to find friends when 
she had expected every insuit and degradation — for 
Francisco had acknowledged that the vessel was a 
pirate — was some consolation. The kindness and 
attention of i'rancisco restored her to comparative 
tranquility. 

The next day she confided to him the reason of 
her coming to the beach, and her mistake with re- 
gard to the two vessels ; and Francisco and Cain 
promised her that they would themselves pay her 
ransom, and not wait until she heard from her fa- 
ther. To divert her thoughts, Francisco talked 
much about Edward Templemore; and on that 
subject C/'lara could always talk. Every circum- 
stance attending the amour was soon known to 
Francisco. 

But the Avenger did not gain her rendevouz as 
soon as she expected. When to the north\vard of 
Porto Rico, an English frig.ate bore down upon her, 
and the Avenger was obliged to run for it. Before 
the wind is always a schooner’s worst point of sail- 
ing; and the chase was continued for three days 
before a fresh wind from the southward, until they 
had passed the Bahama isles. 

The pirates suffered much from want of water, 
as it was necessary still further to reduce their al- 
lowance. The frigate was still in sight, although 
the Avenger had dropped her astern when the wind 


THE PIRATE. 


143 


became light, and at last it subsided into a calm, 
which lasted two days more. The boats of the 
frigate were hoisted out on the eve of the second 
day to attack the schooner, then distant five miles, 
when a breeze sprang up from the northward, and 
the schooner being then to windward, left tlie ene- 
my hull down. 

It was not until the next day that Cain ventured 
to run again to the southward, to procure at one 
of the keys the water so much required. At last 
it was obtained j but with difficulty and much loss 
of time from the scantiness of the supply, and they 
again made sail for the Caicos. But they were so 
. much impeded by contrary winds and contrary cur- 
rents, that it was not until three weeks after they 
had been chased from Porto Rico that they made 
out the low land of their former rendezvous. 

We must now return to Edward Templemore in 
the Enterprise, whom we left off the coast of South 
America in search of the Avenger, which had so 
strangely slipped through their fijigers. Edward 
had examined the whole coast, ran thi'ough tlie pas- 
sage and round Trinidad, and then started off to the 
Leeward isles in his pursuit. He had spoken every 
vessel he met with, without g.aining any information, 
and had at last arrived off Porto Rico. 

This was no time to tliink of Clara 5 but as it was 
not out of his way, he had run down the island 5 
and as it was just before dark before he arrived off 
that part of the coast where the governor resided, 
he had hove to for a little while, and had examined 
the windows ; but the signal of recognition was not 
made ; and after waiting till dark, he again made 
sail, mad with disappointment, and fearing that all 
had been discovered by the governor j whereas the 
fact was, that he had arrived only two days after 
the forcible abduction of Clara. Once more he 
directed his attention to the discovery of the pi- 
rate ; and after a fortnight’s examination of the in- 


144 


THE PIRATE. 


lets and bays of the island of St. Domingo, without 
success, his provisions and water being nearly ex- 
pended, he returned, in no very happy mood to 
Port Royal. 

In the mean time, the disappearance of Clara 
had created the greatest confusion in Porto Ricoj 
and, upon the examination of her attendant, who 
was confronted by the friar a*d the duenna, the 
amour of her mistress was confessed. The appear- 
ance of the Avenger off the coast on that evening, 
confirmed their ideas that the donna Clara had 
been carried off by the English lieutenant} and 
don Alfarez immediately de-spatcheda vessel to Ja- 
maica, complaining of the outrage, and demanding 
the restoration of his daughter. 

This vessel arrived at Port Royal a few days be- 
fore the Enterprise, and the admiral was very much 
astonished. He returned a very polite answer to 
don Alfarez, promising an investigation immediate- 
ly upon the arrival of the schooner, and to send a 
vessel with the result of the said investigation. 

“ This is a pretty business,'’ said the admiral to 
his secretary. “ Young madcap ! 1 sent him to look 
after a pirate, and he goes after the governor’s 
daughter ! By the lord Harry ! Mr. Templemore, 
but you and 1 shall have an account to settle.” 

“■ I can hardly believe it, sir,” replied the secre- 
tai*y 5 and yet it does look suspicious. But on so 
short an acquaintance — ” 

“ Who knows that, Mr. Hadley ? Send for his 
logs, and let us examine them 5 he may have been 
keeping up the acquaintance.” 

The logs of the Enterprise were examined, — and 
there were the fatal words — Porto Rico — Porto 
Rico, bearing in every division of the compass : and 
in every separate cruise, nay, even wdien tne schoo- 
ner was charged with despatches. 

“ Plain enough,” said the admiral. “ Confound- 
ed young r.camp ! — to embroil me this way. ?Tot 


THE PIRATE. 


145 


that his marrying the girl is any business of mine ; 
but I will punish him for disobedience of orders, 
at all events! Try him by a court-martial, by 
heavens !” 

The secretary made no reply : he knew very well 
that the admiral would do no such thing. 

'' The Enterprise anchored at daylight, sir,” re- 
ported the secretary, as the admiral sat down to 
breakfast. 

And where’s Mr. Templemore ?” 

''He is outside, in the veranda. They have told 
him below of what he has been accused, and he 
swears it is false. I believe him, sir j for he ap- 
pears half mad at the intelligence.” 

" Stop a moment ! Have you looked over his 
log ?” 

'* Yes, sir. It appears that he w'as off Porto Rico 
on the 19th ; but the Spanish governor’s letter says 
that he was there on the 17th, and again made his 
appearance on the 19th. I mentioned it to him j 
and he declares, upon his honor, that he was only 
there on the 19th, as stated in his log.” 

" Well ! let him come in and speak for himself.” 

Edward came in, in a state of great agitation. 

"Well, Mr. Templemore! — you have been 
playing pretty tricks ! What is all this, sir ? — Where 
IS the girl, sir, — the governor’s daughter ?” 

" Wliere she is, sir, I cannot pretend to say; but 
I feel convinced that she has been carried off by 
the pirates.” 

"Pirates! — Poor girl! I pity her — and' — I pity 
you, too, Edward. Come, sit down here, and tell 
me all tliat has happened.” 

Edward knew the admiral’s character so well, 
that he immediately disclosed all that had passed 
between him and Clara. He then stated how the 
Avenger had escaped him by deceiving the frigate; 
and the agreement made with Clara to meet for 
the future on the beach ; with his conviction that 

10 


146 


THE PIRATE. 


the pirate schooner, so exactly similar in appear- 
ance to the Enterprise, must have preceded him 
at Porto Rico, and have carried off the object of 
his attachment. 

Although Edward might have been severely tak- 
en to task, yet the admiral pitied him, and there- 
fore said nothing about his visits to Porto Rico. 
When breakfast was over, he ordered the signal to 
be made for a sloop of war to prepare to weigh, and 
the Enterprise to be re-victualled by the boats of 
the squadron. 

“ Now, Edward, you and the Comus shall sail in 
company after this rascally pirate 5 and I trust you 
will give me a good account of her, and also of the 
governor’s daughter. Cheer up, my boy! depend 
upon it, they will try for ransom before tney do her 
any injury.” 

That evening the Enterprise and Comus sailed 
on their expedition; and having run by Porto Rico, 
and delivered a letter to the governor, they steer- 
ed to the northward, and early the next morning 
made the land of the Caicos, just as the Avenger 
had skirted the reefs, and bore up for the narrow 
entrance. 

There she is !” exclaimed Edward ; there she 
is, by Heavens!” making the signal for the enemy > 
which was immediately answered by the Comus. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

THE CAICOS. 

The small patch of islands called the Caicos or 
Cayques, is situated about two degrees to the north- 


THE PIRATE. 


147 


ward of St. Domingo, and are nearly the southern- 
most of a chain which extends up to tlie Bahamas, 
Most of the islands of this chain arc uninhabited, 
but were Ibrmeriy the resort of piratical vessels, as 
the reefs and shoals with which they are all sur- 
rounded alForded them protection from their larger 
pursuers j and the passages through this dangerous 
navigation being known only to the pi. ates wlio fre- 
quented them, proved an additional security, d’he 
largest of the Caicos islands forms a curve like an 
opened horse-shoe to the southward, with safe and 
protected anchorage when once in the bay on the 
southern side; but previous to arriving at the an- 
chorage, there are coral reefs extending upwards of 
forty miles, through whicli it is necessary to con- 
duct a vessel. Tiiis passage is extremely intricate, 
but was well known to Hawkl.iirst, who had hith- 
erto been pilot. Cain was not so well acquainted 
with it, and it required the greatest care in taking 
in the vessel, as, on the present occasion. Hawk- 
hurst could not be called upon for tins service. 
The islands themselves, for there were several of 
them, w'ere composed of coral rock : a lew cocoa 
trees raised their lofty heads where there was suffi- 
cient earth for vegetation, and stunted brushwood 
rose up between the interstices of the rocks. But 
the chief peculiarity of the islands, and w hich ren- 
dered them suitable to those who frequented them, 
was the numerous caves with which the rocks were 
perforated some above high-w'ater mark, but the 
majority with the sea water flowing in and out of 
them, in some cases merely rushing in, and, at 
high-water, filling deep pools, which were detached 
from each other when the tide receded ; in others, 
with a sufficient depth of water, at all times, to 
allow you to pull in with a large boat. It is 
hardly necessary to observe how convenient the 
higher and dry caves w^ere as receptacles for arti- 
cles which were intended to be concealed until an 
opportunity occurred for disposing of them. 


148 


THE PIRATE. 


In our last chapter we stated, that, just as the 
Avenger had entered the passage through the reefs^ 
the Comus and Enterprise hove in sight and dis- 
covered her; but it will be necessary to explain the 
positions of the vessels. The Avenger had enter- 
ed the southern channel, with the wind from the 
southward, and had carefully sounded her way for 
about four miles under little or no sail. 

The Enterprise and Comus had been examining 
Turk’s island to the eastward of the Caicos, and 
had passed to the northward of it on the larboai-d 
tack, standing in for the northern point of the reef, 
which joined on to the great Caicos island. They 
were, therefore, in a situation to intercept the 
Avenger before she arrived at her anchorage, had 
it iiot been for the reefs which barred their passage. 
The only plan which the English vessels could act 
upon, was to beat to the southward, so as to arrive 
at the entrance of the passage, when the Enterprise 
would, of course, find sufficient water to follow the 
Avenger ; for, as the passage was too narrow to 
beat through, and the wind was from the southward, 
the Avenger could not possibly escape. She was 
caught in a trap ; and all that she had to trust to, 
was the defence which she might be able to make 
in her stronghold against the force which could be 
employed in the attack. The breeze was fresh 
from the southward, and appeared inclined to in- 
crease, when the Comus and Enterprise made all 
sail, and worked in short tacks, outside the reef. 

On board the Avenger, the enemy and their mo- 
tions were clearly distinguished, and Cain perceiv- 
ed that he was in an awkward dilemma. That they 
would be attacked he had no doubt 3 and, although 
at any other time he would almost have rejoiced in 
such an opportunity of discomfiting his assailants, yet 
now he thought very differently, and would have 
sacrificed almost every thing to have been able to 
avoid the recontre, and be permitted quietly to 


THE PIRATE. 


143 


withdraw himself from his associates without the 
spilling of more blood. Francisco was equally an- 
noyed at this unfortunate collision 5 but no words 
were exchanged between him and tlie pirate cap- 
tain during the time that they were on deck. 

It was about nine o’clock, when having safely 
passed nearly half through the channel, that Cain 
ordered the kedge-anchor to be dropped, and sent 
down the people to their breakfast. Francisco went 
down into the cabin, and was explaining their situ- 
ation to Clara, wlien Cain entered. He threw him- 
self on the locker, and appeared lost in deep and 
sombre meditation. 

“ What do you intend to do?” said Francisco. 

I do not know 3 I will not decide myself, Fran- 
cisco,” replied Cain 5 “ if 1 were to act upon my own 
judgement, probably I should allow the schooner 
to remain where she is. They can only attack in 
the boats, and in such a case, I do not fear, whereas, 
if we run right through, we allow the other schoon- 
er to follow us without defending the passage, and 
we may then be attacked by her in the deep water 
inside, and overpowered by the number of men the 
two vessels will be able to bring against us. On 
the other hand we certainly may defend the schoon- 
er from the shore, as well as on board, but we are 
weak-handed. I shall, however, call up the ship’s 
company, and let them decide. God knows! if 
left to me, I would not light at all.” 

“ Is there no way of escape ?” resumed Francisco. 

•‘Yes, we might abandon the schooner 3 and this 
night, when they would not expect it, run with the 
Imats through the channel between the great island 
and the north Cayque 3 but that I dare not propose, 
and the men would not listen to it 3 indeed, 1 very 
much doubt if the enemy will allow us the time 3 
I knew this morning, long before we saw those ves- 
sels, that my fate \vould be decided before the sun 
went down.” 


150 


THE PIRATE. 


What do you mean V’ 

I mean this, Francisco/’ said Cain, ^'that your 
motlier, who always has visited me in my dreams 
whenever any tiling, dreadful now to think of, was 
about to take place, appeared to me last night, and 
there was sorrow and pity in her sweet face as she 
mournfully waved her hand, as if to summon me to 
follow her. Yes, thank God ! she no longer look- 
ed upon me as for many years she has done.” 

Francisco made no answer 3 and Cain again seem- 
ed to be lost in meditation. 

After a little while Cain rose, and taking a small 
packet from one of the drawers, put it into the 
hands of Francisco. 

“ Preserve that,” said the pirate captain 3 ^'should 
any accident happen to me, it will tell you who 
Avas your mother : and it also contains directions 
for finding treasure which 1 have buried. I leave 
every thing to you, Francisco. It has been unfairly 
obtained 3 but you are not the guilty party, and 
there are none to claim it. Do not answer me now. 
You may find friends, whom you will make after I 
am gone, of the same opinion as I am. I tell you 
again, be careful of that packet.” 

1 see little chance of it availing me,” replied 
Francisco 3 “ if I live, shall I not be considered as 
a pirate 1” 

No, no 3 you can prove the contrary.” 

"I have my doubts 3 but God’s will be done.” 

“ Yes, God’s will be done !” said Cain mourn- 
fully 3 ‘‘I dai-ed not have said that a month ago.” 
And tile pirate captain went on deck, followed by 
Francisco. 

The crew of the Avenger were summoned afi, 
and called upon to decide as to the measures they 
considered to be most advisable. They preferred 
weighing the anchor, and running into the bay, 
where they would be able to defend the schooner, 
in their opinion, much better than by remaining 
where they were. 


THE PIRATE. 


151 


The crew of the pirate schooner weighed the 
anchor, and continued their precarious course : the 
breeze had freshened, and the water was in strong 
ripples, so that they could no longer see the danger 
beneath her bottom. In the mean time the sloop 
of war and Enterprise continued to turn to wind- 
ward outside of the reef. 

By noon the wind had considerably increased, 
and the breakers now turned and broke in v.’ild 
foam over the coral reefs in every direction. The 
sail was still more reduced on board of the Aveng- 
er, and her difficulties increased from the rapidity 
of her motion. 

A storm-jib was set, and the other hauled down 5 
yet even under this small sail she flew before the 
wind. 

Cain stood at the bowsprit, giving his directions 
to the helmsman. More than once they grazed the 
rocks, and were clear again. Spars were tow- 
ed astern, and every means resorted to, to check 
her way. They had no guide but the breaking of 
the wild water on each side of them. 

Why should not Hawkhurst, who knows the 

E assage so well, be made to pilot us?” said the 
oatswain to those who were near him on the 
forecastle. 

^'To be sure, let’s have him up,” cried several 
of the crew j and some of them went down below. 

In a minute they reappeared with Hawkhurst, 
whom they led forward ; he did not make any re- 
sistance, and the crew demanded that he should 
pilot the vessel. 

“ And suppose I will not,” said Hawkhurst, coolly. 
Then you lose your passage, that’s all,” replied 
the boatswain ; “ is it not so, my men ?” contined 
he, appealing to the crew. 

^^Yesj either take us safe in, or — overboard,” 
replied several. 

I do not mind that threat, my lads,” replied 


152 


THE PIRATE. 


Hawkhurstj “you have all known me as a good 
man and true, and it’s not likely that I shall desert 
you now. Well, since your captain there cannot 
save you, I suppose I must; but,” exclaimed he, 
looking about him — “ how’s this 1 Why, we are 
out of the passage already. Yes, and whether we 
can get into it again I cannot tell.” 

“We are not out of the passage,” said Cain; 
“you know we are not.” 

“ Well, then, if the captain knows better than I, 
he had better take you through,” rejoined Hawk- 
hurst. 

But the crew thought differently, and insisted 
that Hawkhurst, who well knew the channel, should 
take charge. Cain retired aft, as Hawkhurst went 
out on the bowsprit. 

“ I will do my best, my lads,” said Hawkhurst; 
“but, recollect, if we strike in trying to get into 
the right channel, do not blame me. Starboard a 
little — starboard yet — steady so — there’s the true 
passage, my lads!” cried he, pointing to some 
smoother water between the breakers — “ port a lit- 
le — steady.” 

But Hawkhurst, who knew that he was to be put 
on shore as soon as convenient, had resolved to lose 
the schooner, even if his own life was forfeited, 
and he was now running her out of the passage on 
the rocks. A minute after he had conned her, she 
struck heavily again and again; the third time she 
struck she came broadside to the wind and heeled 
over ; a sharp coral rock found its way through her 
slight timbers and planking, and the water poured 
in rapidly. 

During this there was a dead silence on the part 
of the marauders. 

“ My lads,” said Hawkhurst, “ I have done my 
best, and now you may throw me overboard, if you 
please. It was not my fault, but his,” continued 
he, pointing to the captain. 


THE PIRATE. 


155 


" It is of little consequence whose fault it was, 
Mr. Hawkliurst,’' replieclCain 3 '* we will settle that 
point by-and-by ; at present we have too much on 
our hands. Our boats, men ! as fast as you can, 
and let every man provide himself with arms and 
ammunition. Be cool ! the schooner is li.xed hard 
enough, and will not go downj we shall save every 
thing by-and-by.” 

'I'lie pirates obeyed the orders of the captain. 
The three boats were hoisted out and lowered 
down. In the first were placed all the wounded 
men and Clara d’Alfarez, who was assisted up by 
Erancisco. As soon as the men had provided them- 
selves with arms, Francisco, to protect Clara, offer- 
ed to take charge of her, and the boat shoved o!f. 

'I'hc man-o!-war had seen the Avenger strike on 
the roc];s, and the preparations of the crew to take 
to their boats. They immediately hove to, hoisted 
out and manned their own boats, with the hopes of 
cutting them off before they could gain the island 
and prepare for a vigorous defence 3 for, although 
the vessels could not approach the reefs, there was 
sufficient water in many places for the boats to pass 
over them. Shortly after Francisco, in the first 
boat, had shoved off from the Avenger, the boats of 
the men-of-war w'ere darting through the surf to 
intercept them. The pirates perceived this, and 
hastened their arrangements 3 a second boat soon 
left her, and into that Hawkhurst leaped as it was 
shoving off. Cain remained on bo.ard, and going 
round the lower decks, to ascertain if any of the 
wounded men were left, he then quited the schoo- 
ner in the last boat, and followed the others, being 
about a quarter of a mile astern of the second, in 
which Hawkhurst had secured his place. 

At the time that Cain quited the schooner, it 
was difficult to say whether the men-of-war’s boats 
would succeed in intercepting any of the pirate’s 
boats. Both parties exerted themselves to their 


154 


THE PIRATE. 


utmost; and, when the first boat, with Francisco 
and Clara, landed, the headmost of the assailants 
was not much more than half a mile from them ; 
but shallow water intervening, there was a delay 
w'hich was favorable to the pirate. Hawkhurst 
landed in his boat as the launch of the Comus fired 
her eighteen pound carronade. The last boat was 
yet two hundred yards from the beach, when an- 
other shot from the Comus’ launch, which had been 
unable hitherto to find a passage through the reef 
struck her on the counter, and she filled and went 
down. 

He is gone!” exclaimed Francisco, w'ho had 
led Clara to a cave, and stood at the mouth of it to 
protect her : “ they have sunk his boat — no, he is 
swimming lo the shore, and will be here now, long 
before the English seamen can land.” 

This was true. Cain was breasting the w'ater 
manfully, making for a small cove nearer to where 
the boat was sunk than the one in which Francisco 
had landed w'ith Clara and the wounded men, and 
divided from the other by a ridge of rocks which 
separated the sandy beach, and extended some way 
into the water before they were submerged. Fran- 
cisco could easily distinguish the pirate captain 
from the other men who also were swimming for 
the beach ; for Cain was far ahead of them, and. as 
he gained nearer to the shore, he was shut from 
Francisco’s sight by the ridge of rocks. Francisco, 
anxious for his safety, climbed up the rocks and 
was watching. Cain was within a few yards of the 
beach, when there was the report of a musket ; the 

f )irate captain was seen to rise his body convulsive- 
y half out of the water — he floundered — the clear 
blue wave was discoloured — he sank, and was seen 
no more. 

Francisco darted forward from the rocks, and 
perceived Hawkhurst standing beneath them, with 
the musket in his hand, which he was recharging. 


THE PIRATE. 155 

"Villain I" exclaimed Francisco, "you shall ac- 
count (or this.” 

Hawkhurst had reprimed his musket and shut the 
pan. 

" Not to you,” replied Hawkhurst, levelling his 
piece, and taking aim at Francisco. 

The ball struck Francisco on the breast j he reel- 
ed back from his position, staggered across the sand, 
gained the cave, and lell <at the feet of Clara. 

" Oh, God!” e.xclaimed the poor girl, "are you 
hurt 5 who is there, then, to protect me ?” 

"I hardly know,” replied Francisco, faintly; and 
at intervals, " I feel no wound, I feel stronger;” 
and Francisco put his hand to his heart. 

Clara opened his vest, and found that the packet 
given to Francisco by Cain and wliich he had de- 
posited in liis breast, had been struck by the bullet 
which had done him no injury further than the vio- 
lent concussion of the blow — notwithstanding he 
was faint from the shock, and his head fell upon 
Clara’s bosom. 

But we must relate the proceedings of those who 
were mixed up in this e.xciting scene. Edward 
Templemore had watched from his vessel, with an 
eager and painful curiosity, the motions of the 
schooner — her running on the rocks, and the subse- 
quent actions of the intrepid marauders. The long 
telescope enabled him to perceive distinctly all that 
passed, and his feelings were increased into a par- 
oxysm of agony wdien his straining eyes beheld the 
white and fluttering habiliments of a female for a 
moment at the gunnel of the stranded vessel — her 
descent, as it appeared to him, nothing loath, into 
the boat — the arms held out to receive, and the ex- 
tension of hers to meet those offered — could it be 
Clara? where was the reluctance, the unavailing 
attempts at resistance which should have charac- 
terized her situation ? Excited by feelings which he 
dared not analize, he threw down his glass, and. 


156 


THE PIRATE. 


seizing his sword, sprang into his boat which wag 
ready manned alongside, desiring the others to Ibl- 
low him. For once, and the only time in his ex- 
istance, when approaching the enemy, did he feel 
his heart sink within him — a cold tremor ran 
through his whole frame, and, as he called to mind 
the loose morals and desperate habits of the pirates 
horrible thoughts entered his imagination. As he 
neared the shore, he stood up in the stern-sheets 
of the boat, pale, haggard, and with trembling lips 
— and the intensity of his feelings would have been 
intolerable but for a more violent thirst for revenge. 
He clenched his sword, while the quick throbs of 
his lieart seemed at every pulsation, to repeat to 
him his thoughts of blood ! blood ! blood ! He ap- 
proached the small bay, and perceived that there 
was a female at the mouth of the cave — nearer and 
nearer, and he was certain that it was his Clara — 
her name was on his lips when he heard the two 
shots fired one after anotlier by Hawkhurst — 
he saw the retreat and fall of Francisco — when, 
madness to behold ! he perceived Clara rush for- 
ward, and there lay the young man supported by 
her, and with his head upon her bosom. Could he 
believe what he saw ? — could she really be his be- 
trothed? Yes, there she was, supporting the hand- 
some figure of a young man, and that man a pirate 
— she had even put her hand into his vest, and was 
now watching over his reviving form. Edward 
could bear no more *, he covered his eyes, and now, 
maddened with jealousy, in a voice of thunder, he 
called out — 

“ (live way, my lads ! for your lives give way!’’ 

The gig was within half a dozen strokes of the 
oar from the beach, and Clara, unconscious of 
wrong, had just taken the packet of papers froin 
Francisco’s vest, when Hawkhurst made his appear- 
ance from behind the rocks which separated the two 
little sandy coves. Francisco had recovered his 


THE PIRATE. 


157 


breath, and, perceiving the approach of Hawklmrst, 
he sprang upon his feet to recover his musket 5 but, 
before he could succeed, Hawkhurst had closed in 
with him, and a short and drcadlul struggle ensued. 
It would soon have terminated fatally to Francisco, 
for the superior strength of Hawldiurst had enabled 
him to bear down the body of his opponent with his 
knee, and he was fast strangling him by twisting his 
handkerchief round his throat, while Clara shrieked, 
and attempted in vain to tear the pirate from him. 
As the prostrate Francisco was thst blackening into 
a corse, and the maiden screamed for pity, and be- 
came frantic in her efforts for his rescue, the boat 
dashed high up on the sand 5 and, with the bound 
of a maddened tiger, Edward sprang upon Hawk- 
hurst, tearing him down on his back, and severing 
his wrist with his sword-blade until his hold of 
Francisco was relaxed, and he wrestled in his own 
defence. 

“Seize him, my lads !” said Edward, pointing 
with his left hand to Hawkhurst 5 as with his sword 
directed to the body of Francisco he bitterly con- 
tinued, “• thi'i victim is mine V’ But whatever were 
his intentions, they were frustrated by Clara’s re- 
cognition, w'ho shrieked out — “ My Edward 1 ” sprang 
into his arms, and was immediately in a state of 
insensibility. 

The seamen who had secured Hawkhurst looked 
upon the scene with curious astonishment — while 
Edward waited with mingled feelings of impatience 
and doubt for Clara’s recovery — he wished to be 
assured by her that he was mistaken, and he turned 
again and again from her face to that of Francisco, 
who was fast recovering. — During this painful sus- 
pense, Hawkhurst was bound and made to sit down. 

“ Edward ! dear Edward !” said Clara, at last, in 
a faint voice, clinging more closely to him) “and 
am I then rescued by thee, my dearest ?” 

Edward felt the appeal 3 but his jealousy had not 
yet subsided. 


168 


THE PIRATE. 


Who is that Clara V’ said he, sternly. 

“ It is Francisco. No pirate, Edward — ^but my 
preserver.” 

“ Ha, ha !” — laughed Hawkhurst, with a bittei 
sneer, for he perceived how matters stood. 

Edward Templemore turned towards hira \iith 
an inquiring look. 

Ha, ha !” continued Hawkhurst 5 “ v.'hy, he is 
the captain’s son. No pirate, eh 1 Well, wdiat will 
women not swear to, to save those they doat upon.” 

If the captain’s son,” said Edward, “ why were 
you contending?” 

“ Because just now I shot his scoundrel father.” 

“ Edward !’’ said Clara, solemnly, “ this is no 
time for explanation, but, as I hope for mercy, what 
I have said is true ; believe not that villain.’’ 

“ Yes,” said Francisco, who was now sitting up, 
'^believe him when he says that he sliot the' cap- 
tain, for that is true ; but, sir, if you value your 
ow'n peace of mind, believe nothing to tlie preju- 
dice of that young lady.” 

“ 1 hardly know what to believe,” muttered Ed- 
W'ard Templemore ; “ but, as the lady says, this is 
no time for explanation. With your permission, 
madam,” said he to Clara, “my coxswain will see 
you in safety on board of the schooner, or the oth- 
er vessel, if you prefer it 3 my duty will not allow 
me.*o accompany you.” 

Clara darted a reproachful yet fond look on Ed- 
ward, as with swdmming eyes, she was led by the 
coxswain to the boat which had been joined by the 
launch of the Comus, the crew of which were, 
with their officers, wading to the beach. The men 
of the gig remained until they had given Hawk- 
hurst and Francisco in charge of the other seamen, 
and then shoved off with Clara for the schooner. 
Edward Templemore gave one look at the gig, n.s 
it conveyed Clara on board, and, ordering Hawk- 
hurst and Francisco to be taken to the launch, and 


THE PIRATE. 159 

a guard to be kept over them, went up with the re- 
mainder of the men, in pursuit of the pirates. 

During the scene we have described, the other 
boats of the men-of-war had landed on the island, 
and the Avenger’s crew, deprived of their leaders, 
and scattered in every direction, were many of them 
slain or captured. In nlJout two hours it was sup- 
posed that the majority of the pirates had been ac- 
counted for, and the prisoners being now very nu- 
merous. it w.as decided that the boats should return 
with them to the Comus, the captain of which ves- 
sel, as commanding officer, would then issue orders 
as to their future proceedings. 

The captured pirates, when mustered on the 
deck of the Comus, amounted to nearly sixty, out 
of which number one half were of those who had 
been sent on shore wounded, and had surrendered 
w'ithout resistance. Of killed there w^ere fifteen ; 
and it was conjectured that as many more had been 
drowned in the boat when she was sunk by the shot 
from the carronade of the launch. Although, by 
the account given by the captured pirates, the ma- 
jority were secured, yet there was reason to sup- 
pose that some were still left on the island conceal- 
ed in the caves. 

As the captain of the Comus had orders to return 
as soon as possible, he decided to sail immediately 
for Port Royal with the prisoners, leaving the En- 
terprise to secure the remainder, if there were any, 
and recover any thing cf value which might be left 
in the wreck of the Avenger, and then to destroy 
her. 

With the usual celerity of the service these or- 
ders were obeyed. The pirates among whom Fran- 
cisco was included, were secured, the boats were 
hoisted up, and in half an hour, the Comus dis- 
played her ensign, and made all sail on a wind, leav- 
ing Edward Templemore, with the Enterprise, at 
the back of the reef, to perform the duties entailed 


160 


THE PIRATE. 


upon him; and Clara, who was on board of the 
schooner, to remove the suspicion of jealousy which 
had arisen in the bosom of her lover. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

THE TRIAL. 

In a week, the Comus arrived at Port Royal, 
and the captain went up to the penn to inform 
the admiral of the successful result of the expe- 
dition. 

“ Thank God,” said the admiral, We have 
caught these villians at last ; a little hanging will 
do them no harm. The captain, you say, w'as 
drowned 

'•'So it is reported, sir,” replied Captain Manly, 
" He W'as in the last boat which left the schooner, 
and she was sunk by a shot from the launch.” 

“ I am sorry for that ; the death was too good 
for him. Hovv'ever w'e must make an example of 
the rest ; they must be tried by the admirality 
court, which has the jurisdiction of the high seas. 
Send them on shore, Manly, and we wash our 
hands of them.” 

" Very good, sir ; but there are still some left 
on the island, we have reason to believe ; and the 
Entei'prise is in search of them.” 

“ By-the-by, did Templemore find his lady ?” 

" O yes, sir ; and — all’s right, I believe ; but I 
had very little to say with him on the subject.” 

" Humph !” replied the admiral, " I am glad to 
hear it. Well, send them on shore, Manly, to the 
proper authorities. If any more be found, they 


THE PIRATE. 


161 


must be hung afterwards, when Templemore 
brings them in. I am more pleased at having se- 
cured these scoundrels, than if we had taken a 
French frigate.'' 

About three weeks after this conversation, tlie 
secretary reported to the admiral that the Enter- 
prise had made her number outside ; but that she 
was becalmed, and would not probably be in until 
the evening. 

“ That’s a pity," replied the admiral 5 for the 
pirates are to be tried this morning. He may have 
more of them on board." 

“ Very true, sir 5 but the trial will hardly be over 
to-day : the judge will not be in court till one 
o’clock, at the soonest." 

It’s of little consequence, certainly ; as it is, 
they are so many that they must be hanged by di- 
visions. However, as he is within signal distance, 
let them telegraph, ‘ Pirates now on trial.’ He can 
pull on shore in his gig, if he pleases." 

It was about noon on the same day, that the pi- 
rates, and among them Francisco, escorted by a 
strong guard, were conducted to the court-house, 
and placed at the bar. The court-house was 
crowded to excess, for the interest excited was in- 
tense. 

Many of them who had been wounded in the at- 
, tack upon the property of don Cumanos, and after- 
wards captured, nad died in their confinement. 
Still forty -five were placed at the bar j and their 
picturesque costume, their bearded faces, and the 
atrocities which they had committed, created in 
those present a sensation of anxiety mingled with 
horror and indignation. 

Two of the youngest amongst them had been 
permitted to turn king’s evidence. They had been 
on board of the Avenger but a few months 5 still 
their testimony as to the murder of the crews of 
three West India ships, and the attack upon the 


162 


THE PIRATE. 


property of don Cumanos, was quite sufficient to 
condemn the remainder. 

Much time was necessarily expended in going 
through the forms of the court 5 in the pinates an- 
swering to their various names 3 and, lastly, in ta- 
king down the detailed evidence of the above men. 
It was late when the evidence was read over to the 
pirates 3 and they were asked if they had any thing 
to offer in their defence. The question was re- 
peated by the judge 5 when Hawkb.urst was the first 
to speak. To save himself he could scarcely hope5 
his only object was to prevent Francisco pleading 
his cause successfully, and escaping the same dis- 
graceful death. 

Hawkhurst declared that he had been some time 
on board of the Avenger 3 — but that he had been 
taken out of a vessel, and forced to serve against 
his will, as could be proved b\' the captain’s son, 
who stood there, (pointing to Francisco.) who had 
been in the schooner since her first fitting out : — 
that he had always opposed the captain, who would 
not part with him, because he was tliC only one on 
board who was competent to navigate the schoon- 
er : — that he had intended to rise against him, and 
take the vessel, having often stimulated the crew 
BO to do 3 and that, as the other men, as well as 
the captain’s son, could prove, if they chose, he ac- 
tually was in confinement for that attempt when 
the schooner was entering the passage of the Cai- 
cos 3 and that he was only released because he was 
acquainted with the passage, and threatened to be 
thrown overboard if he did not take her in : — that 
at every risk, he had run her on the rocks 3 and 
aware that the captain would murder him, he had 
shot Cain as he was swimming to the shore, as the 
captain’s son could prove 3 for he had taxed him 
with it, and he was actually struggling with him for 
life, when the officers and boat’s crew separated 
them, and made them both prisoners ; — that he 


0 


THE PIRATE. 163 

hardly expected that Francisco, the captain’s son, 
would tell the truth to save him, as he was his bit- 
ter enemy, a-'d in the buisness at the Magdalen riv- 
er, which had been long planned, (for I'rancisco 
had been sent on shore under the pretence of being 
^v'recked, but, in fact, to ascertain where the booty 
was, and to assist the pirates in their attack.) Fran- 
cisco liaJ taken that opportunity of putting a bullet 
through his shoulder, which was well known to the 
other pirates, and Francisco could not venture to 
deny. He trusted that the court would order the 
torture to Francisco, and then he would probably 
speak the truth ; at all events let him speak now. 

When Hawkhurst had ceased to address the 
court there was an anxious pause for some minutes. 
The day v/as fast declining, and most jjarts of the 
spacious court-house were already deeply immers- 
ed in gloom ; while the light, sober, solemn, and 
almost sad. gleamed upon the savage and reckless 
countenances of the prisoners at the bar. The sun 
had sunk down behind a mass of heavy, yet gorge- 
ous clouds, fringing their edges with molten gold. 
Hawkhurst had spoken fluently and energetically, 
and tliere was an appearance of almost honesty in 
his coarse and deep-toned voice. Even the occa- 
sional oaths with which his speech was garnished, 
but which we have omitted, seemed to be pronoun- 
ced more in sincerity than in blasphemy and gave a 
more forcible impression to his narrative. 

We have said, that when he concluded there was 
a profound silence ; and amid the fast-falling shad- 
ows of the evening, those who were present began 
to feel, for the lirst time, the awful importance of 
the drama before them, the number of lives which, 
were trembling upon the verge of existance de- 
pending upon the single word of “ Cluilty.” This 

f )ainful silence, this harrowing suspense, was at 
ast broken by a restrained sob from a female ; but, 
owing to the obscurity involving the body of the 


164 


THE PIRATE. 


court, her person could not be distinguished. The 
wail of women so unexpected — for who could there 
be of that sex interested in the fate of these des- 
perate men ? — touched the hearts of its auditors, 
and appeared to sow the first seeds of compassion- 
ate and humane feeling among those w'ho had 
hitherto expressed and felt nothing but indignation 
towards the prisoner's. 

I'he judge upon the bench, the counsel at the 
bar, and the jury impannelled in their box, felt the 
force of the appeal 5 and it softened dowm the evil 
impression created by the address of Hawkhurst 
against the youthful Francisco. The eyes of all 
were now directed towards the one doubly accus- 
ed — accused not only by the public prosecutor, but 
even by his associate in crime, — and the survey 
Avas favorable. They acknowledged that he was 
one whose personal qualities might indeed challenge 
the love of women in his pride, and her lament in 
his disgrace j and, as their regard was directed to- 
wards him, the sun, which had been obscured, 
now pierced through a break in the mass of clouds, 
and threw a portion of his glorious beams from a 
window opposite upon him, and him alone, while 
all the other prisoners who surrounded him were 
buried more or less in deep shadow. It was at 
once evident that his associates were bold yet com- 
mon-place villains — men who owed their courage, 
their only virtue, perhaps to their habits, to their 
physical organization, or the influence of those 
around them. They were mere human butchers, with 
the only adjunct, that now that the trade was to be 
exercised upon themselves, they could bear it with 
a sullen apathy — a feeling how far removed from 
true fortitude ! Even Hawkhurst, though more 
commanding than the rest, with all his daring mien 
and scowl of defiance, looked nothing more than a 
distinguished ruffian. With the exception of Fran- 
cisco, the prisoners had wholly neglected their per- 


THE PIRATE. 


165 


sonal appearance ; and in them the squalid and sor- 
did look of the mendicant seemed allied with the 
ferocity of the murderer, 

Francisco was not only an exception, but formed 
a beautiful contrast to the others j and as the even- 
ing beams lighted up his figure, he stood at tJie bar, 
if not with all the splendor of a liero of romance, 
certainly a most picturesque and interesting person- 
age, elegantly, if not richly, attired. 

The low sobs at intervals repeated, as if impossi- 
ble to be checked, seemed to rouse and call him 
to a sense of the important part which he was cal- 
led upon to act in the tragedy there and then per- 
forming. His face was pale, yet composed ; his 
mien at once proud and sorrowful ; his eye was 
bright, yet his glance was not upon those in court, 
but far away, fixed, like an eagle’s upon the gor- 
geous beams of the setting sun, which glow'ed 
upon him through the window that was in front 
of him. 

At last the voice of Francisco was heard, and all 
in that wide court started at the sound — deep, full, 
and melodious as the evening chimes. The ears 
of those present had, in the profound silence, but 
just recovered from the harsh, deep-toned, and bar- 
barous idiom of Hawkhurst’s address ; when the 
clear, silvery, yet manly, voice of Francisco rive- 
ted their attention. The jury stretched forth their 
heads, the counsel and all in court turned anxious- 
ly round towards the prisoner, even the judge 
held up his forefinger, to intimate his wish for per- 
fect silence. 

My lord and gentlemen,” commenced Francis- 
co ; “ when I first found myself in this degrading 
situation, I had not thought to have spoken, or to 
have uttered one word in my defence. He that has 
just now accused me has recommended the torture 
to be applied j he has already had his wish, for what 
torture can be more agonizing than to find myself 


166 


THE PIRATE. 


where I now um 1 So tortured, indeed, have I been 
tlirough a short yet wretched life, that 1 have often 
felt that any thing short of self-destruction which 
would release me, would be a blessing : but witiiin 
these few minutes 1 have been made to acknowl- 
ed:;e that 1 have still feelings in unison with my 
fellow-creatures ) that I am not yet fit for death, 
and all too young, too unprepa,red to die. 5 for who 
would unreluctant leave this world while there is 
such a beautei us sky to love and look upon, or while 
there is one female breast who holds iiim innocent, 
and has evinced her pity for his misfortimes ? Yes, 
my lord, mercy, and pity, and compassion, have not 
yet fled from earth 5, and, therefore, do 1 feel 1 am 
too young to die. — God forgive me I but 1 thought 
they had — for never h.ave they been shown in those 
Vv itli whom, by late, I have been connected ; and it 
has been from this conviction that I have so often 
longed for death. And now, rnav that righteous 
Cod who judgest us not here, but hereafter, enable 
me to prove that 1 do not deserve an ignominious 
punislunent from my fellow-sinners — men ! 

“ IMy lord, 1 know not the subtleties of the laws, 
nor the intricacy of pleadings. First let me assert 
that I have never robbed, but I have restored unto 
the plundered} I have never murdered, but I have 
stood between the assassin’s knife and his victim. 
For this have I been hated and reviled by my asso- 
ciates, and for tins is my life now threatened by 
those law's, against which I never have oficnde<l. 
The man who last addressed you has told you tliat 
I am the pir.ate captain’s son. It is the assertion 
of the only irreclaimable and utterly remorseless 
villain among those who now stand before you to be 
judged — the assertion of one, whose glory, who.se 
joy, w'hose solace, lias been blood-shedding. 

“ My lord, I had it from the mouth of tlio cap- 
tain himself, previous to his murder by that man, 
that I was not his son. His son ! tliaiik God, not 


THE PIRATE. 


167 


80. Connected with him and in his power I was 
most certainly and most incomprehensibly. Before 
be died, he delivered me a packet that would have 
told me who I am 3 but I have lost it, and deeply 
have 1 felt the loss. One only fact I gained from 
him whom they would call my father, which is,that 
with his own hand he slew, yes, basely slew, my 
mother.” 

The address of Francisco was here interrupted 
by a low deep groan of anguish, which startled the 
whole audience. It w-as now quite dark, and the 
judge ordered the court to be lighted previous to 
the defence being continued. The impatience and 
anxiety of those present were shown in low mur- 
murs of communication, until the lights were 
brought in. The word “ Silence !” from the judge 
produced an immediate obedience, and the prisoner 
was ordered to proceed, 

Francisco then continued his address, commenc- 
ing with the remembrances of his earliest child- 
hood. As he wanned with his subject, he became 
more eloquent 3 his action became energetical 
without violence ; and the pallid and modest youth 
gradually grew into the impassioned and inspired 
orator. He recapitulated rapidly, yet distinctly and 
and with terrible force, all the startling events in 
his fearful life. There was truth in the tones of 
his voice — there was conviction in his animated 
countenance — there was innocence in his open and 
expressive brow. 

All who heard believed 5 and scarcely had he 
concluded his address, when the jury appeared im- 
patient to rise and give their verdict in his favor. 
But the judge stood up, and addressing the jury, 
told them that it was his most painful duty to re- 
mind them that as yet they had heard but assertion, 
beautiful and almost convincing assertion truly 3 but 
still it was not proof. 

^^.^las!” observed Francisco, '“'w'hat evidence 


168 


THE PIRATE. 


oan I bnng forward, except the evidence of those 
around me at the bar, which will not be admitted ? 
Can I recall the dead from the grave ? can I expect 
those who have been murdered to rise again to as- 
sert my innocence ? can I expect that don Cumanos 
will appear from distant leagues to give evidence 
in my behalf? Alas ! he knows not how I am situ- 
ated, or he would have flown to my succor. No — 
noj not even can I expect that the sweet Spanish 
maiden, the last to whom I offered my protection, 
will appear in such a place as this, to meet the bold 
gaze of hundreds 

“ She is here replied a manly voice ; and a 
passage was made through the crowd ; and Clara, 
supported by Edward Templemore, dressed in his 
uniform, was ushered into the box for the witness- 
es. The appearance of the fair girl, who looked 
round her with alarm, created a great sensation. 
As soon as she was sufficiently composed, she w'as 
sworn, and gave her evidence as to Francisco’s be- 
havior during the time that she was a prisoner on 
board of the Avenger. She produced the packet 
which had saved the life of Francisco, and substan- 
tiated a great part of his defence. She extolled his 
kindness and his generosity ; and when she had 
concluded, every one asked of himself, “Can this 
young man be a pirate and a murderer ?” The re- 
ply was, “ It is impossible.” 

“ My lord,” said Edward Templemore, “ I re- 
quest permission to ask the prisoner a question. 
When I was on board of the wreck of the Avenger, 
I found this book floating in the cabin, I wish to 
ask the prisoner, whether, as that young lady has 
inlbrmed me, it is his ?” And Edward Templemore 
produced the Bible. 

“ It is mine,” replied Francisco. 

“ May I ask you by what means it came into your 
possession ?” 

“ It is the only relic left of one who is now no 


THE PIRATE. 


169 


more. It was the consolation of my murdered 
mother — it Has since been mine. Give it to me^ 
sir; I may probably need its support now more 
than ever." 

“ Was your mother murdered say you ?" cried 
Edward Templemore, with much agitation. 

“ I have already said so; and I now repeat it." 

The judge again rose, and recapitulated the evi- 
dence to the jury. Evidently friendly to Francisco, 
he was obliged to point out to them, that, although 
the evidence of the young lady had produced much 
which might be offered in extenuation, and induce 
him to submit it to his majesty, in hopes of his gra- 
cious pardon after condemnation ; yet, that many 
acts in which the prisoner had been involved had 
endangered his life, and no testimony had been 
brought forward to prove that he had not, at one 
time, acted with the pirates, although he might 
since have repented. They would, of course, re- 
member that the evidence of the mate, Hawkhurst, 
was not of any value, and must dismiss any impres- 
sion which it might have made against Francisco. 
At the same time, he had the unpleasant duty to 
point out, that the evidence of the Spanish lady 
was so far prejudicial, that it pointed out the good 
terms subsisting between the young man and the 
pirate captain. Much as he was interested in his 
fate, he must reluctantly remind the jury, that the 
evidence on the whole was not sufficient to clear 
the prisoner; and he considered it their duty to re- 
turn a verdict of guilty against all the prisoners at 
the bar. 

My lord," said Edward Templemore, a few se- 
conds after the judge had resumed his seat; “may 
not the contents of this packet, the seal of which 
I have not ventured to break, afford some evidence 
in favor of the prisoner? Have you any objection 
that it should be opened previous to the jury deliv- 
ering their verdict ?" 


170 


THE PIRATE. 


‘‘None/’ replied the judge 5 “but what are its 
supposed contents 1 ” 

“ The contents my lord/’ replied Francisco, “are 
in tlie writing of the pirate captain. He delivered 
that packet into my hands, previous to our quitting 
the scliooner, stating that it would inform me who 
were my parents. My lord, in my present situation 
I claim that packet, and rel'use that its contents 
shall be read in court. If J am to die an ignomini- 
ous death, at least those who are connected with 
me shall not have to blush at my disgrace, lor the 
secret of my parentage shall die w'ith me.” 

“ Nay — n.ay 5 be ruled by me,” replied Edward 
Templemore, with much emotion “ in the narra- 
tive, the handwriting of which can be proved by 
the king’s evidence, there may be acknowledgment 
of all you have stated, and it will be received as 
evidence 5 will it not, my lord ?” 

“ If the handwriting is proved, I should think it 
may,” replied tlie judge, “particularly as the lady 
was present wlien the packet was delivered, and 
heard the captain’s assertion. Will you allow it to 
be oflered as evidence, young man ?” 

“No, my lord,” replied Francisco; “unless I 
have permission first to peruse it myself, I will not 
have its contents divulged, — unless 1 am sure of 
an honorable acquittal: the jury must deliver their 
verdict.” 

The jury turned round to consult, during v^hich 
Edward Templemore walked to Francisco, accom- 
panied by Clara, to entreat him to allow the packet 
to be opened 5 but Francisco was firm against both 
their entreaties. At last the foreman of the jury 
rose to deliver the verdict. A solemn and awful 
silence prevailed throughout the court j the sus- 
pense was painl'ul to a degree. 

“ My lord,” said the foreman of the jury, “our 
verdict is— >” 

“ Stop, sir !” said Edward Templemore as he 


THE PIRATE. 


171 


clasped one arm round the astonished Francisco, 
and extended his other towards the foreman. Stop, 
sir ! harm him not: for he is my brother!” 

'■And my preserver !” cried Clara, kneeling on 
the other side of Francisco, and holding up her 
hands in supplication. 

I'he announcement was electrical ; the foreman 
dropped into his seat ; the judge and wiiole court 
were in mute astonishment. Toe dead silence was 
followed by confusion, which, after a time, the judge 
in vain attempted to put a stop to. 

Edward Templemore, Clara, and Francisco con- 
tinued to form the same group; and never was there 
one more beautiful. And now tliat they were to- 
gether, every one in court perceived the strong re- 
semblance between the two young men. 

I' raucisco’s complexion was darker than Edward's 
* from his constant exposure, from infancy, to a trop- 
ical sun ; but the features of the two were the same. 

It was some time before the judge could obtain 
silence in the court; and when it had been obtain- 
ed, he was himself puzzled how to proceed. 

Edward and Francisco, who liad exchanged a few 
words, were now standing side by side. . 

" iVly lord,” said Edward 'J'emplcmore, "the pris- 
oner consents that the packet sliall be opened.” 

"I do,” said Francisco, mournfully; “although 
I have but little hope from its contents. Alas! 
now that I have every thing to live for, — now that 
I cling to life, 1 feci as if every cliance was gone ! 
I’he days of miracles have passed; and nothing but 
tlie miracle of the reappearance of the pirate cap- 
taiij from the grave can prove my innocence.” 

“ He reappears from tlie grave to prove thine in- 
nocence, Fr mfiscf) !” said a deep hollow voice, 
which startled tue whole court, — and most of all 
Ilawklmrst and tlie prisoners at the bar. Still more 
did iearan;] horror 4i-'=tort tlteir countenances, when 
into the witness-box stalked tlie giant form of Cain. 


172 


THE PIRATE. 


But it was no longer the figure which we havo 
described in the commencement of this narrative : 
his beard had been removed, and he was pale, wan, 
and emaciated. His sunken eyes — his hollow cheek, 
and a short cough, which interrupted his speech, 
proved that his days were nearly at a close. 

“My lord,’' said Cain, addressing the judge, “T 
am the pirate Cain, — and was the captain of the 
Avenger 1 still am I free. I come here voluntarily, 
that 1 may attest the innocence of that young man 1 
As yet, my hand has not known the manacle, or my 
feet the gyves ! I am not a -prisoner, nor included 
in the indictment j and at present my evidence is 
good ! none know me in this court, except those 
whose testimony, as prisoners, is unavailing j and 
therefore, to save that boy, and only to save him, 
I demand that I may be sworn.” 

The oath was administered with more than usual 
solemnity. 

“ My lord, and gentlemen of the jury, — I have 
been in court since the commencement of the trial, 
and I declare that every word which Francisco has 
uttered in his own defence is true. He is totally 
innocent of any act of piracy or murder, — the pack- 
et would, indeed, have proved as much 5 but in that 
packet there are secrets which I wished to remain 
unknown to all but Francisco; and rather than it 
should be opened, I have come forward myself. 
How that young officer discovered that Francisco 
is his brother I know not ; but if he also is the son 
of Cecilia Templemore, it is true. But the packet 
will explain all. 

“ And now, my lord, that my evidence is receiv- 
ed, I am content: I have done one good deed be- 
fore I die, and 1 surrender myself, as a pirate and a 
foul murderer, to justice. True, my life is nearly 
closed, — thanks to that villain, there; but I prefer 
that I should meet that death I merit, as an expia- 
tion of my many deeds of guilt.” 


THE PIRATE 


173 


Cain then turned to Hawkhurst, who was close 
to him, but the mate appeared to be in a state of 
stupor; he had not recovered from his first terror, 
and still imagined the appearance of Cain to be 
supernatural. 

“ Villain !” exclaimed Cain, putting his mouth 
close to Hawkhurst's ear, '' double d — d villain ! 
thou’lt die like a dog, and unrevenged ! the boy is 
safe, and I’m alive 1” 

“ Art thou really living ?” said Hawkhurst recov- 
ering from his fear. 

'' Yes, living — yes, flesh and blood ; feel, wretch ! 
feel this arm and be convinced : thou hast felt the 
power of it before now,” continued Cain, sarcasti- 
cally. “And now, my lord, I have done ; Francis- 
co, fare thee well. I loved thee, and have proved 
my love. Hate not then, my memory, and forgive 
me — ^yes, forgive me when I’m no more,” said Cain, 
who then turned his eyes to the ceiling of the court- 
house. “ Yes, there she is ! Francisco! — there she 
is ! and see,” cried he, extending both arms above 
his head, “she smiles upon — ^yes, Francisco, your 
sainted mother smiles and pardons — ” 

The sentence was not finished, for Hawkhurst, 
when Cain’s arms were upheld, perceived his knife 
in his girdle, and with the rapidity of thought, he 
drew it out, and passed it through the body of the 
pirate c^tain. 

Cain fell heavily on the floor, while the court 
was again in confusion. Hawkhurst was secured, 
and Cain raised from the ground. 

“ I thank thee, Hawkhurst !” said Cain, in an ex- 
piring voice; “another murder thou hast to answer 
for : and you have saved me from the disgrace, not 
of the gallows, but of the gallows in thy company. 
Francisco, boy, farewell !” And Cain groaned deep- 
ly, and expired. 

Thus perished the renowned pirate captain, who 
in his life had shed so much blood, and whose death 


m 


THE PIRATE. 


produced another murder. Blood for blood ! 

The body was removed 5 ami it now remained 
but for the jury to give their verdict. Ail the pris- 
oners were found guilty, vvith the exception of Fran- 
cisco, who iei’t the dock accompanied by his newly 
found bi'other, and the congratulations of every in- 
dividual who could gain access to him. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

CONCLUSION. 

Our first object will be to explain to the reader 
by wliat means Edward Templemore was induced 
to surmise that in Francisco, whom he had consid- 
ered as a rival, he had found a brother-, and also to 
account for the reappearance of the pirate Cain. 

In pursuance of his orders, Edward Temple- 
more had proceeded on board of the wreck of the 
Avenger ; and while his men were employed in 
collecting articles of great value which w'ere on 
board of her, he had descended into the cabin, 
which was partly under w^ater. Here he had picked 
up a book floating near the lockers, and on exami- 
nation, found it to be a Bible. 

Surprised at seeing .such a book on board of a 
pirate, he had taken it with him when he returned 
.to the Enterprise, and had shown it to Clara, who 
immediately recognised it as the property of Fran- 
cisco.- 'j’he book was saturated with the salt uaterj 
and, as Edward mechanically turned over the pa- 
ges, he referred to the title-page to see if there 
was any name upon it. Tiiere was not j but he ob- 
served that the blank, or ily-leaf next to the bind- 


THE PIRATE. 


175 


ing had been pasted down, and that there was wri- 
ting on the other side. In its present state it was 
easily detanhed from the cover 5 and then to his as- 
tonishment. he read the name of Cecilia Temple- 
more — his own mother. He knew well the history; 
how he had been saved, and his mother and brother 
supposed to be lost ; and it may readily be imagin- 
ed how great was his anxiety to ascertain by what 
means her Bible had come into the possession of 
Francisco. He dared not think Francisco was his 
brother — that he was so closely connected with one 
he still supposed a pirate ; but the circumstance 
was possible ; and although he had intended to 
have remained a few days longer, he now listened 
to the entreaties of Clara, whose peculiar position 
on board was only to be justified by the peculiar po- 
sition from which she had been rescued ; and, re- 
turning that evening to the wreck, he set lire to 
her, and then made sail for Port Royal. 

Fortunately he arrived, as we have stated, on the 
day of the trial ; and, as soon as the signal was 
made by the admiral, he immediately manned his 
gig,and taking CUara with him, in case her evidence 
might be of use, arrived at the court-house when 
the trial was about half over. 

In our last chapter but one, we stated that Cain 
had been wounded by Hawkhurst, when he was 
svvimming on shore, and had sunk ; the ball had en- 
tered liis chest, and passed through his lungs. The 
contest between Hawkhurst and Francisco, and 
their capture by Edward, had taken place on the 
other side of the ridge of rocks, in the adjacent 
cove; and, although Francisco had seen Cain dis- 
appenr, and concluded that he was dead, it was not 
so : he had again risen above the water, and, drop- 
ping his feet and finding bottom, he contrived to 
crawl out, and wade into a cave adjacent, where he 
laid down to die. 

But in tills cave th^ere was one of the Avenger's 


176 


THE PIRATE. 


boats, two of the pirates, mortally wounded, and 
the four Kroumen, who had concealed themselves 
there with the intention of taking no part in the con- 
flict 5 and, as soon as it became dark, of making 
their escape in the boat, which they had hauled up 
dry into the cave. 

Cain staggered in, recovered the dry land, and 
fell. Pompey, the Krouman, perceiving his condi- 
tion, went to his assistance, and bound up his 
wound, and the staunching of the blood soon reviv- 
ed the pirate captain. The other pirates died un- 
aided. 

Although the island was searched in every direc- 
tion, this cave, from the water flowing into it, es- 
capefl the vigilance of the British seamen 5 and 
when they re-embarked with the majority of the pi- 
rates captured, Cain and the Kroumen were undis- 
covered. 

As soon as it was daik, Cain informed them of 
his intentions ; and although the Kroumen would, 
probably, have left him to his fate, yet, as they re- 
quired liis services to know how to steer to some 
other island, he was assisted into the stern-sheets, 
and the boat was backed out of the cave. 

By the directions of Cain, they passed through 
the passage between the great island and the north- 
ern Cayque, and, before daylight, were far away 
from any chance of capture. 

Cain had now, to a certain degree, recovered } 
and, knowing that they were in the channel of the 
small traders, he pointed out to the Kroumen, that 
if supposed to be pirates, they would inevitably be 
punished, although not guilty, and that they must 
pass oft' as the crew of a small coasting vessel,which 
had been wrecked. He then, with the assistance 
of Pompey, cut oft’ his beard as close as he could, 
and arranged his dress in a more European style. 
They had neither water nor provisions, and were 
exposed to a vertical sun. Fortunately for them, 


THE PIRATE. 


177 


and still more fortunately for Francisco, on the sec- 
ond day they were picked up by an American brig, 
bound to Antigua, 

Cain narrated his fictitious disasters, and said 
nothing about his wound j the neglect of which 
would certainly have occasioned his death a very 
few days alter he appeared at the trial, had he not 
fallen by the malignity of Hawkhurst, 

Anxious to find his way to Port Royal, — for he 
w'as indifferent as to his own life, and only wished 
to save Francisco, — he was overjoyed to meet a 
small schooner, trading between the islands, bound 
to Port Royal. In that vessel he obtained a pas- 
sage for himself and the Kroumen, and had arrived 
three days previous to the trial, and during ‘that 
time hatl remained concealed until the day tliat the 
admiralty court assembled. 

It may be as well here to remark, that Cain’s 
reason for not wishing the packet to be opened, 
was, that among the other papers relative to Fran- 
cisco, were directions for the recovery of the trea- 
sure w'hich he had concealed, and which, of 
course,he wished to be communicated to Francisco 
alone. 

We will leave the reader to imagine what passed 
between Francisco and Edward, after the discovery 
of their kindred, and proceed to state the contents 
of the packet, which the twin brothers now opened 
in the presence of Clara alone. 

We must, however, condense the matter, which 
was very voltiminous. It stated that Cain, whose 
real name was Charles Osborne, had sailed, in a 
fine schooner, from Bilboa, for the coast of Africa, 
to procure a cargo of slaves 5 and had been out 
about twenty-four hours, when the crew perceived 
a boat, apparently with no one in her, floating about 
a mile ahead of them. The water was then smooth, 
and the vessel had but little way. As soon as they 
came up with the boat, they lowered down their 
skiff to examine her. 12 


178 


THE PIRATE. 


The men sent in the skiff soon returned, towing 
the boat alongside. Lying at the bottom of the 
boat were found several men, almost dead, and re- 
duced to skeletons ; and in the stern-sheets, a negro 
woman, with a child at her breast, and a wliite fe- 
male, in the last state of exhaustion. 

Osborne was then a gay and unprincipled man, 
but not a hardened villain and murderer, as he af- 
terwards became; he had compassion and feeling — 
they were all taken on board the schooner : some 
recovered — others were too much exhausted. 
Among those restored was Cecilia Templemore, 
and the infant, who at first had been considered 
quite dead ; but the negro woman, exhausted by 
the demands of her nurseling and her privations, 
expired, as she was being removed from the boat. 
A goat, that fortunately was on board, proved a sub- 
stitute for the negress; and, before Osborne had 
arrived off the coast, the child had recovered its 
health and vigor, and the mother her extreme 
beauty. 

We must now pass over a considerable portion 
of the narrative. Osborne was impetuous in his 
passions, and Cecilia Templemore became his vic- 
tim. He had, indeed, afterwards quieted her 
qualms of conscience by a pretended marriage, 
when he arrived at the Brazils with his cargo of hu- 
man flesh. But that was little alleviation of her 
sufferings; she, who had been indulged in every 
luxury, who had been educated with the greatest 
care, was now lost for ever — an outcast from the 
society to which she could never hope to return; 
and associating with those she both dreaded and 
despised. She passed her days and her nights in 
tears ; and had soon more cause for sorrow from 
the brutal treatment she received from Osborne, 
who had been her destroyer. Her child was her 
only solace ; but for him, and the fear of leaving 
him to the demoralizing influence of those about 


THE PIRATE. 


179 


him, she would have laid down and died ; but she 
Jived for him*— for him attempted to recall Osborne 
from hia career of increasing guilt — bore meekly 
wiih reproaciies and with blows. At last Osborne 
changed his nefarious life for one of deeper guilt ; 
he became a pirate j and still carried with him Ce- 
cilia and her child. 

'^idiis was the climax of her misery : she nov/ 
wasted from day to day, and grief would soon have 
terminated her existence, had it not been hastened 
by the cruelty of Cain, who, upon expos tulation on 
her part, followed up with a denunciation of the 
consequences of his guilty career, struck her witli 
such violence that she sank under the blow. Slie 
expired with a j^rayer that her child miglit be res- 
cued from a li;e cf guilt; and, when the ti;cn re- 
pentant Cain promised what he never did perform, 
she blessed him, tco, bcfcre she died. 

Such was the substance cf the narrative, as far 
as it related to th.e unfortunate niotlier of tliese two 
young men, vv];o, when tliey had concluded, sat, 
hand-in-hand, in mournful silence. 'I’liis, however, 
was soon broken by the innumerable questions ask- 
ed by Edward of his brother, as to what he could 
remember of their ill-fated parent, which were 
followed up by the history of Franciscobs eventful 
life. 

“ And the treasure, Edward — said Francisco ' 

I cannot talce possession of it.” 

'^]\o, nor shall you either !” replied Edward; 
it belongs to the captors, and must be shared as 
prize-money. You will never touch one penny of 
it; but I shall, I trust, pocket a very fair })roportion 
of it ! However, keep this paper, as it is addressed 
to you.” 

The admiral had been made acquainted with all 
tlie particulars of this eventful trial, and had sent 
a message to Edward, requesting tliat, as soon as he 
and his brother could make it convenient, he would 


ISO 


THE PIRATE. 


be happy to see them at the penn, as well as the 
daughter of the Spanish governor, whom he must 
consider as being under his protection during the 
time that she remained at Port Royal. This offer 
was' gladly accepted by Clara ; and, on the second 
day after the trial, th.ey proceeded up to the penn. 
Clara and Francisco were introduced, and apart- 
ments and suitable attendance provided for the lat- 
ter. 

Templemore,” said the admiral, “Pm afraid 1 
must send you away to Porto Rico^ to assure the 
governor of his daughter’s safety.^’ 

“ I would rather you would send some one else, 
sir, and Pll assure her happiness in the mean, 
time.” 

“ What ! by marrying her ? Humph ! you’ve a 
good opinion of yourself! Wait till you are a cap- 
tain, sir.” 

“ I hope I shall not have to wait long, sir,” re- 
plied Edward, demurely. 

“ By-the-by,” said the admiral, “ did you not 
say you have notice of treasure concealed in those 
islands.” 

“ My brother has ; I have not.” 

“ We must send for it. 1 think we must send 
you, Edward. Mr. Francisco, you must go with 
him.” 

“ With pleasure, sir,” replied Francisco, laugh- 
ing ; “ but I think Pd rather wait till Edward is a 
captain ! His wife and his fortune ought to come 
together. I think I shall not deliver up my. papers 
until the day of his marriage !” 

“ Upon my word,” said captain Manly, “ I vvish, 
Templemore, you had your commission, for there 
seems to be so much depending on it — tlie young 
lady’s happiness, my share ol* the prize-money, and 
the admiral’s eighth. Really, admiral, it becomes a 
common cause j and Pm sure he deserves it !” 

“ So do I, Manly,” replied the admiral 5 “ and to 


THE PIRATE. 


181 


f >rove that I have thought so, here comes Mr. Had- 
ey with it in his hand : it only wants one little 
thing to complete it — ” 

“ Which is your signature, admiral,! presume V' 
replied captain Manly, taking a pen full of ink, and 
presenting it to his senior officer. 

E.\actly I” replied the admiral, scribbling at the 
bottom of the paper j “ and now — it does not want 
that. (’aptain Templemore, I wish you joy 1 ” 
Edward made a very low obeisance, as his flush- 
ed countenance indicated his satisfaction. 

“ I cannot give commissions, admiral," said 
Francisco, presenting a paper in return 5 but I 
can give information — and you will find it not un- 
important — for the treasure appears to be of great 
value." 

God bless my soul ! Manly, you must start at 
daylight!" exclaimed the admiral j “why, there 
is enough to load your sloop ! There ! — read it 1— • 
and then I will write your orders, and enclose a 
copy of it, for fear of accident," 

That was to have been my fortune," said Fran- 
cisco, with a grave smile j “but I would not touch 
it." 

“ Very right, boy ! — a fine principle ! But we 
are not quite so particular," said the admiral. “Now, 
where’s the young lady ? Let her know that din- 
ner's on the table," 

A fortnight after this conversation, captain Manly 
returned with the treasure; and the Enterprise, 
commanded by another officer, returned from Porto 
R.ico, with a letter from the governor in reply to one 
from the admiral, in which the rescue of his daugh- 
ter by Edward had been communicated. The letter 
was full of thanks to the admiral, and compliments 
to Edward ; and, what was of more importance, it 
sanctioned the union of the young officer with his 
daughter, and a dozen boxes of gold doubloons. 
About six weeks after the above-mentioned im- 


m 


THE PIRATE. 


portant conversation, Mr. Witherington, who had 
been reading a voluminous packet of letters, in his 
breakfast-room in Finsburj-square, pulled his bell 
so violently that old Jonathan thought his master 
must be out of his senses. This, however, did not 
induce him to accelerate his solemn and measured 
pace 5 and he made his appearance at the door as 
usual, without speaking. 

“ VVhy don’t that fellow answer the bell cried 
Mr. Witherington. 

“ I am here, sir,” said Jonathan, solemnly, 

“ Well, so you are ! but confound you ! — ^you 
come like the ghost of a butler ! But who do you 
think is coming here, Jonathan V’ 

“ 1 cannot tell, sir.” 

” But I can ! — ^you solemn old ! Edward’s 

coming here ! — coining home directly!” 

Is he to sleep in his old room, sir ?” replied 
the imperturbable butler. 

'^JNo ! the best bed-room ! Why, Jonathan, he is 
married — he is made a captain ! — Captain Temple- 
more !” 

‘'Yes — sir.” 

“And he has found his brother, Jonathan 5 his 
twin brother !” 

“ Yes — sir.” 

“ His brother Francis 5 — that was supposed to be 
lost ! But it’s a long story, Jonathan !•— and a very 
wonderful one ! — and his poor mother has long been 
dead !” 

“ 7 n c^elo quies,” said Jonathan 5 casting up his 
eyes. 

“ But his brother has turned up again.” 

“ Resurgam said the butler. 

“ I'hey will be here in ten days — so let every 
thing be in readiness, Jonathan, God bless my 
soul !” continued the old gentleman, “ I hardly 
know what I’m about. It’s a Spanish girl, Jona- 
than I” 

“ What is, sir ?” 


THE PIRATE. 183 

What is, sir ? — why .captain Templemore’s wife} 
and he was tried as a pirate 
“ Who, sir V’ 

Who, sir ? — why, Francis, his brother! Jona- 
than, you’re a stupid old fellow 

“ Have you any further commands, sir V* 
jNIo — no ! — there — that’ll do — go away.” 

And in three weeks after this conversation, cap- 
tain and Mrs. Templemore, and his brother Frank, 
were established in the house, to the great delight 
of Mr. W’^itherington; for he had long been tired 
of solitude and old Jonathan. 

The twin brothers were a comfort to him in his 
ola age : they closed his eyes in peace — they divi- 
ded his blessing and his large fortune — and thus 
ends our history of The Pirate ! 



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THE THREE CUTTERS 


CHAPTER I. 

CUTTER THE FIRST. 

Reader, have you ever been at Plymouth ? If 
you have, your eye must have dwelt with ecstasy 
upon the beautiful property of the earl of Mount 
Ed^ecumbe : if you have not been at Plymouth, the 
sooner that you go there the better. At Mount 
Edgecumbe you will behold the finest timber inex- 
istence, towering up to the summits of the hills, and 
feathering down to the shingle on the beach. And 
from this lovely spot you will witness one of the 
most splendid panoramas in the world. You will 
see — I hardly know what you will not see — you will 
see Ram Head, and Cawsand Bay; and then yo^j^ 
will see the Breakwater, and Drake’s Island and 
Devil’s Bridge below you; and the town of Ply- 
mouth and its fortifications, and the Hoe; and then 
you will come to the Devil’s Point, round v/hich 
the tide runs devilish strong ; and then you will 
see the New Victualling Office, — about which sir 
James Gordon used to stump all day, and take a 
pinch of snuffi from every man who carried a box. 
which all were delighted to give, and he was de- 
lighted to receive, proving how much pleasure may 
be communicated merely by a pinch of snulf — and 
then you will see Mount Wise and Mutton Cove ; 
the town of Devonport, with its magniiicent dock- 
yard and arsenals, North Corner, and the way which 
leads to Saltash. And you will see ships building 
and ships in ordinary ; and ships repairing and ships 
fitting 3 and hulks and convict-ships, and the guard- 


186 


TKli THREE CUTTERS. 


ship; ships ready to sail and ships under sail; be- 
sides lighters, man-of-war's boats, dock-yard boats, 
bum-boats, and shore-boats. In short, there is a 
great deal to see at Plymouth besides the sea itself : 
but what I particularly wish now, is, that you should 
stand at the battery of Mount Edgecumbe and look 
into Barn Pool below you, and there you will see, 
lying at. single anchor, a cutter; and you may also 
see, by her pendant and ensign, that she is ayacht. 

Of all the amusements entered into by the nobil- 
ity and gentry of our island, there is not one so 
manly, so exciting, so patriotic, or so national, a.? 
yacht-sailing. It is peculiar to England, not only 
from our insular position and our fine harbors, but 
because it requires a certain degree of energy and 
a certain amount of income rarely to be found else- 
where. It has been wisely fostered by our sove- 
reigns, who have felt that the security of the king- 
dom is increased by every man being more or less 
a sailor, or connected with the nautical profession. 
It is an amusement of the greatest importance to 
jthe country ; as it has much improved our ship 
building and cur ship fitting, while it affords em- 
ployment to our seamen and shipwrights. But if I 
were to say all that 1 could say in praise of yachts, I 
should never advance with my narrative. I shall 
therefore drink a bumper to the health of admiral 
lord Yarborough and the Yacht Club, and proceed. 

You observe that this yacht is cutter-rigged, and 
that she sits gracefully on the smooth water. She 
is just heaving up her anchor; her foresail is loose, 
all ready to cast her — in a few minutes she will be 
under weigh. You see that there are some ladies 
sitting at the taffrail ; and there are five haunches 
of venison hanging over the stern. Of all amuse- 
ments, give me yachting But we must go on board. 
The deck, you observe, is of narrow deal planks, 
as white as snow ; the guns are of polished brass ; 
tlie bitts and binnacles of mahogany ; she is painted 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


187 


with taste ; and all the mouldings are gilded. There 
is nothing wanting ; and yet how clear and how un- 
encumbered are her decks ! I.et us go below. 
This is the ladies’ cabin: can any thing be more 
tasteful or elegant? is jt not lin^urious ? and, although 
so small, does not its very confined space aston- 
ish you, when you behold so many comforts so beau- 
tifully arranged ? This is the dining room, and 
where the gentleman repair. What can be more 
complete or recherche? and just peep into the 
state-rooms and bed-places. Here is the steward’s 
room and the beaufet : the steward is squeezing 
lemons for the punch, and there is the champagne 
in ice 5 and l)y the side of the pail, the long-corks 
are ranged up all ready. Now, let us go forwards 3 
here are the men’s berths, not confined as in a 
man-of-war. No ! lu.xury starts from abaft, and is 
not wholly lost, even at the fore-peak. This is the 
kitchen : is it not admirably arranged ? What a 
multum in parvo ! and how delightful are the fumes 
of the turtle-soup! At sea we^.do meet \^i^h. rough . 
•weather at times 5 but for roughing it me 

a yacht. Now, that I have shown you r6u'mMne ves- 
sel, I must introduce the parties on board. 

You observe that florid, handsome man in. white 
trousers and blue jacket, who has a telescope in 
one hand, and is sipping a glass of brandy and wa- 
ter which he has just taken olf the skylight. That 
is the owner of the vessel, and a member of the 
Yacht Club. It is lord B : he looks like a sai- 

lor, and he does not much belie his looks 3 yet I 
have seen him in his robes of state at the opening 
of the house of lords. The one near to him is Mr. 
Stewart, a lieutenant in the navy.. He holds on by 
the rigging with one hand, because, having been ac- 
tively employed all his life, he does not know what 
to do with his hands, which have nothing in them. 
He is a protege of lord B.3 and is now on board as 
sailing master of the yacht. 


188 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


That handsome, well-built man who is standing 
by the binnacle, is a Mr. Hautaine. He served six 
years as midshipman in the navy, and did not like 
it. He then served six years in a cavalry regiment, 
and did not like it. He then married, and, in a 
much shorter probation, found that he did not like 
that. But he is very fond of yachts and other men's 
wives, if he does not like his own j and wherever 
he goes he is welcome. 

That young man with an embroidered silk waist- 
coat and white gloves, bending to talk to one of the 
ladies, is a Mr. Vaughan. He is to be seen at Al- 
mack’s, at Crockford’s, and everywhere else. Ev- 
ery body knows him, and he knows every body. He 
is a little in debt, and yachting is convenient. 

The one who sits by the lady is a relation of 
lord B.3 you see at once what he is. He apes the 
sailor ; ne has not shaved, because sailors have no 
time to shave every day ; he has not changed his 
linen, because sailors cannot change every day. 
He has a cigar in his mouth which makes him half 
sick ai:^|anuoys his company. He talks of the 
pleasurW)f a rough sea, which will drive all the la- 
dies below — and then they will not perceive tiiat 
he is more sick than themselves. He has the mis- 
fortune to be born to a large estate, and to be a 
fool. His name is Ossulton. 

'I'he last of the gentlemen on board whom I have 
to introduce, is Mr. Seagrove. He is slightly made, 
with marked features full of intelligence. He has 
been brought up to the bar ; and has every qualifi- 
cation but application. He has never had a brief, 
nor has he a chance for one. He is the tiddler of 
the company, and he has locked up his chambers, 
and come, by invftation of his lordsJiip, to play on 
board of his yacht. 

I have yet to describe the ladies — perhaps I should 
have commenced with them — I must excuse my- 
self upon the principle of reserving the best to the 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 189 

last. All puppet showmen do so 5 and what is this 
but the hrst scene in my puppet-sho^v. 

We will describe them according to seniority. 
That tall, thin,, cross-looking lady ot lorty-hve is a 
spinster, and sister to lord R. She has been per- 
suaded, very much against her will, to come on 
beard 5 but Her notions of propriety would not per- 
mit her niece to embark under tlie protection of 
ouly her iather. She is frightened .at every thing} 
if a rope is thrown down on the deck, up she starts, 
and cries, “ Oh !” if on deck, slie thinks the water 
is rushing in below ; if down below, and there is a 
noise, she IS com in red there is d.aiiger} and if it 
Le periecily stul, she is sure there is something 
wrong. She hdgets herseit’ and everybody, and is 
quite a nuisance with her pride and iii-humor } hut 
she has strict notions of propriety, and sacriiices 
herseif as a martyr. She is the hon. miss Ossul- 
ton. 

'I'he lady who, when she smiles, shows so many 
dimples in her pretty oval face, is a young widow 
of tne name of Lascelles. She married an old 
man to please her father and mother, which was 
very dutiful on her part. She was rewarded by 
finaing herseif a widow with a large fortune. Hav- 
ing married the first time to please her parents, she 
intends now to marry to please herself} but she is 
very young, and is in no hurry. 

'J'hat young lady with such a sweet expression of 
countenance, is tl.c hon. miss Cecilia Ossulton. She 
is lively, witty, and has no fear in her composition } 
but she is very young yet, not more than seven- 
teen — and nobody knows what she really is — she 
does not know herself. These are the parties who 
meet in tiie cabin of the yacht. The crew consists 
of ten fine seamen, the steward and the cook. 
There is also lord B.’s valet, Mr. Ossulton’s gentle- 
man, and the lady’s maid of miss Ossulton. There 
not being accommodation for them, the other ser- 
vants were left on shore. 


190 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


The yacht is now under weigh, and her sails are 
all set. She is‘Yunning between Drake’s island and 
the main. Dinner lias keen announced. As the 
i-eader has learnt scinething about the preparatioi s, 1 
leave him to judge whether it be not very pleasant 
to sit down to dinner in a yacht. 'J’he air had giv- 
en every body an appetite 5 and it was not until the 
cloth was removed that the conversation became 
general. 

'‘Mr. Seagrove,” said his lordship, “you very 
nearly lost your passage 5 I expected ycu last 
Thursday.” 

“ i am sorry, my lord, that business prevented 
my sooner attending to your lordship’s kind sum- 
mons.” 

“ Come, Seagrove, don’t be nonsensical,” said 
Hautaine ; “ you told me ycursell*, the other even- 
ing, when you were talkative, that you never had a 
brief in your life.”. 

'• And a very fortunate circumstance,” replied 
Seagrove ; “ for if i had had a brief 1 should not 
have known what to have done with it. It is not 
my fault 5 1 am fit for nothing but a commissioner ; 
but still 1 had business, and very important busi- 
ness, too ; 1 was summoned by Ponsonby to go 
w'ith him to Tattersall’s to give my opinion aboura 
horse he wishes to purchase, and then to attend 
him to Forest Wild to plead his cause with his un- 
cle.” 

“ It appears then that you were retained,” repli- 
ed lord li.; *• may 1 ask you whether your friend 
gained his. cause 7 ” 

“ No, my lord, he lost his cause, but he gained a 
suit.” 

“ Expound your riddle, sir ” said Cecilia Ossnl- 
ton. 

“ The fact is, that old Ponsonby is very anxious 
that William should marry miss Fercival, whose es- 
tates join on to Forest Wild. Nov.y my friend Will- 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


191 


iam is about as fond of marriage as I am of law, 
and thereby issue was joined.” 

“ But why were you to be called in V’ inquired 
Mrs. Lascelles. 

Because, madam, as Ponsonby never buys a 
horse without consulting me — ” 

“ I cannot see the analogy, sir,” observed miss 
Ossulton, senior, bridling up. 

“ Pardon me, madam : the fact is,” continued 
Seagrove, that, as I always have to back Ponson- 
by's horses, he thought it right, that, in this in- 
stance, I should back him j he required special 
pleading, but his uncle tried him for the capital of- 
fence, and he was not allowed counsel. As soon 
as we arrived, and 1 had bowed myself into the 
room, Mr. Ponsonby bowed me out again — which 
would have been infinitely mere jarring to my feel- 
ings, had not the door been left a-jar.” 

“ Do any thing but pun, Seagrove,” interrupted 
Hautaine. 

Well, then, I will take a glass of wine.” 

“ Do so,” said his lordship ; “ but, recollect, the 
whole company are impatient for your story.” 

“ I can assure you, my lord, that it was equal to 
any scene in a comedy.” 

jQow, be it observed, that Mr. Seagrove had a 
great deal of comic talent j he was an excellent 
mimic, and could alter his voice almost as he pleas- 
ed. It was a custom of his to act a scene as be- 
tween o-ther people, and he performed it remarka- 
bly well. Whenever he said that any thing he was 
going to narrate was “ as good as a comedy,” itwas 
generally understood by those who were acquaint- 
ed with him, that he was to be asked so to do. Ce- 
cilia Ossulton therefore immediately said, Pray 
act it, Mr. Seagrove.’’ 

Upon which Mr. Seagrove — premising that he 
had not only heard, but also seen all that had pass- 
ed — changing his voice, and suiting the action to 


192 THE THREE CUTTERS. 

the word, commenced. “It may,” said he, “be 
called 

Five Thousand Ao'cs in a Ring-Fence " 

We shall not describe Mr. Seagrove’s motions j 
they must be inferred from his words. 

“ ‘ It will, then, William,’ observed Mr. Ponson- 
by, stopping and turning to his nephew^, after a rapid 
walk up and down the room with his hands behind 
him under Ins coat, so as to allow the tails to drop 
their perpendicular about three inches clear of his 
body, ‘ 1 may say, without contradiction, be the 
finest property in the country — five thousa.nd acres 
in a ring-ience.' 

“ '1 dare say it will, uncle,’ replied William, 
tapping his foot as he lounged in a green morocco 
easy-ciiair; ‘ and so, because ycu have set your fan- 
cy upon having these two estates enclosed together 
in a ring-fence, you wish that I should also be en- 
closed in a ring-fence.’ 

“ ‘ And a beautiful property it will be,’ replied 
Mr. Ponsonby. 

“ ‘ Which, uncle ? — the estate, or the wife 

“ ‘ Both, nephew, both ; and I expect your con- 
sent.’ 

“'Uncle, I am not avaricious. Your present 
property is sufficient for me. With your permis- 
sion, instead of doubling the property, and doubling 
myself, I will remain your sole heir, and single.’ 

“ ‘ Observe, William, such an opportunity may 
not occur again for centuries. We shall restore 
Forest Wild to its ancient boundaries. You know 
it has been divided nearly two hundred years. We 
now have a glorious, golden opportunity of reuniting 
the two properties; and when joined, the estate 
will be exactly what it w^as when granted to our 
ancestors by Henry the Eighth, at the period of the 
Reformation. This house must be pulled down, 
and the monastery left standing. Then w'e shall 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


193 


have our own, and the property without encum- 
brance.^ 

“ ‘ Without encumbrance, uncle ! — ^you forget that 
there will be a wife.' 

“ ‘ And you forget that there will be five thousand 
acres in a ring-fence.' 

‘ Indeed, uncle, you ring it too often in my ears, 
that I should forget it } but much as I should like 
to be the happy possessor of such a property, I do 
not feel inclined to be the happy possessor of miss 
Percival j and the more so, as I have never seen 
the property.’ 

' We will ride over it to-morrow, William.' 

“ ‘ Ride over miss Percival, uncle ! that will not 
be very gallant. I will, however, one of these 
days, ride over the property with you, which, as 
well as miss Percival, I have not as yet seen.' 

‘ Then I can tell you, she is a very pretty pro- 
perty.' 

“ ' If she were not in a ring-fence.' 

‘ In good heart, William. — That is, I mean an 
excellent disposition.' 

“■ ‘ Valuable in matrimony.’ 

“ ‘ And well tilled — I should say well educated, 
by her three maiden aunts, who are the patterns of 
propriety.' 

'Does any one follow the fashion?' 

" ' In a high state of cultivation ; that is her mind 
highly cultivated, and according to the last new 
system — what is it?' 

" ' A four-course shift, I presume,’ replied Will- 
liam, laughing 5 'that is, dancing, singing, music, 
and drawing.' 

" ' And only seventeen ! — Capital soil, promising 
good crops.' — What would you have more ?' 

" 'A very pretty estate, uncle, if it were not the 
estate of matrimony. I am sorry, very sorry, to 
disappoint you 5 but I must decline taking a lease 
of it for life.' 


194 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


‘ Then, sir, allow me to hint to you, that, in 
my testament, you are only tenant at will. 1 con- 
sider it a duty that I owe to the family, that tlie 
estate should be reunited. That can only be done 
by one of our family marrying miss Fercival ; and, 
as you will not, 1 shall now write to your cousin 
James, and if he accept my proposal, shall make 
him my heir. Probably he will more fully appre- 
ciate the advantages of five thousand acres in a 
ring-fence.’ 

“ And Mr. Ponsonby directed his steps towards 
the door. 

“ ‘ Stop, my dear uncle,’ cried William, rising up 
from his easy-chair ; ‘ we do not quite understand 
one another. It is very true that 1 would prefer 
half the property and remaining single to the two 
estates and tlie estate of marriage ; but, at the same 
time, 1 did not tell you that 1 would prefer beggary 
to a wife and five thousand acres in a ring-fence. 
I Imow you to be a man of your word 5 — 1 accept 
your proposal, and you need not put my cousin 
James to tlie expense of postage.’ 

“ 'Very good, William; 1 require no more ; and 
as 1 know you to be a man of your word, 1 shall 
consider this match as settled. It was on this ac- 
count only that I sent for you, and now you may 
go back again as soon as you please — I will let you 
know when all is ready.’ 

" ' I must be at Tattersall’s on Monday, uncle ; 
there is a horse I must have for next season. Pray, 
uncle, may I ask when you are likely to want me V 

“ 'Let me see — this is May — about July, I should 
think.’ 

*' 'July, uncle ! Spare me — I cannot marry in the 
dog-days. No, hang it, not July.’ 

" 'Well, William, perhaps, as you must come 
down once or twice to see the property — ^miss Per- 
cival, I should say — it may be too soon — suppose 
we put it olf till October.’ 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


195 


“ October — I shall be clown at Melton.' 

‘Pray, sir, may I then inquire what portion of 
the year is not, with you, dogf-days V 

“ ‘ VVhy, uncle, next April now — I think that 
would do.’ 

“ “iS'ext April. — Eleven months, and a winter 
between. Suppose miss Percival was to take a cold 
and die ! — ’ 

‘ I should be excessively obliged to her,’ thought 
William. 

“ ‘JNo! no!’ continued Mr. Ponsonby, ‘there is 
nothing certain in this world, William.’ 

“ ‘ Well, then, uncle, suppose we arrange it for 
the first hardfrosU 

“ ‘We have had no hard frosts lately, William. 
We may wait for years. — The sooner it is over the 
better. — Go back to town, buy your horse, and then 
come down here — my dear ^Viiliam, to oblige your 
uncle — never mind the dog-days.’ 

“ ‘ Well, sir, if 1 am to make a sacrifice, it shall 
not be done by halves 5 out of respect for you, 1 
will even marry in July, without any regard to the 
thermometer.’ 

“ ‘ You are a good boy, William. — Do you want 
a cheque V 

“ ‘ 1 have had one to-day,’ thought William*, and 
was almost at fault. ‘ I shall be most thankful, sir, 
— they sell horse-flesh by the ounce now-a-days.’ 

“ ‘ And you pay in pounds. — There, William.’ 

“ ‘ Thank you, sir. Pm all obedience 5 and Pll 
keep my word, even if there should be a comet. 
1 11 go and buy the horse, and then I shall be ready 
to take the ring-fence as soon as you please.’ 

“ ‘ Yes, and you’ll get over it cleverly, I’ve no 
doubt. — Five thousand acres, William, and — a pret- 
ty wife 1’ 

“ ‘ Have you any further commands, uncle V said 
William, depositing the cheque in his pocket-book. 

“ ‘ Now, my dear boy, are you going V 


196 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


“ ‘ Yes, sir, I dine at the Clarendon.' 

‘ Well, then, good-bye. — Make my compliments 
and excuses to your friend Seagrove. — You will 
come Tuesday or Wednesday.' 

“ Thus was concluded the marriage between 
William Ponsonby and Emily Percival, and the 
junction of the two estates, which formed together 
the great desideratum , — ^ve thousand acres in a 
Hng^'enceJ’ 

Mr. Seagrove finished, and looked around for 
approbation. 

“ Very good, indeed, Seagrove," said his lordship, 
‘‘ you must take a glass of wine after that." 

I would not give much for miss Percival's 
chance of happiness," observed the elder miss 
Ossulton. 

'^Of two evils choose the least, they say," ob- 
served Mr. Hautaine. “ Poor Ponsonby could not 
help himself." 

That's a very polite observation of yours, Mr. 
Hautaine — I thank you in the name of the sex," re- 
plied Cecilia Ossulton. 

Nay, miss Ossulton ; would you like to marry 
a person whom you never saw ?" 

“ Most certainly not } but when you mentioned 
the two evils, Mr. Hautaine, I appeal to your honor, 
did you not refer to marriage or beggary ?" 

“ I must confess it. Miss Ossulton j but it is hardly 
fair to call on my honor to get me into a scrape." 

I only wish that the offer had been made to me," 
observed Vaughan 5 I should not have hesitated 
as Ponsonby did." 

“ Then I beg you will not think of proposing for 
me," said Mrs. Lascelles, laughing j — for Mr. Vaugh- 
an had been excessively attentive. 

“ It appears to me, Vaughan," observed Seagrove, 

that you have slightly committed yourself by that 
remark," 

Vaughan, who thought so too, replietl : '‘Mrs. 
Lascelles must be aware that 1 was only joking." 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 197 

^‘Fie! Mr. Vaughan/' cried Cecilia Ossultonj 

you know it came from your heart." 

“ My dear Cecilia," said the elder miss Ossulton, 
“ you forget yourself — what can you possibly know 
about gentlemen's hearts V’ 

“The Bible says, 'that they are deceitful and 
desperately wicked,' aunt." 

“And cannot we also quote the Bible against 
your sex, miss Ossulton ?" replied Seagrove. 

“ Yes, you could, perhaps, if any of you had ever 
read it," replied miss Ossulton, carelessly. 

“ Upon my word, Cissy, you are throwing the 
gauntlet down to the gentlemen," observed lord 
B., “ but I shall throw my warder down, and not 
permit this combat a V otdrance , — I perceive you 
drink no more wine, gentlemen, — we will take our 
coffee on deck." 

“ We were just about to retire, my lord," observ- 
ed the elder miss Ossulton, with great asperity : “ I 
have been trying to catch the eye of Mrs. Lascelles 
for some time, but — " 

“ I was looking another way, I presume," inter- 
rupted Mrs. Lascelles, smiling. 

“ I am afraid that I am the unfortunate culprit," 
said Mr. Seagrove 5 “ I was telling a little anecdote 
to Mrs Lascelles — " 

“Which of course, from its being communicated 
in an under tone, was not proper for all the com- 
pany to hear," replied the elder miss Ossulton : 
“ but if Mrs. Lascelles is now ready — " continued 
she, bridling up, as she rose from her cliair. 

“At all events, I can hear the remainder of it on 
deck," replied Mrs. Lascelles. The ladies rose, 
and went into the cabin : Cecilia and Mrs. Lascelles 
exchanging very significant smiles, as they follow- 
ed the precise spinster, who did not choose that 
Mrs. Lascelles should take the lead merely because 
she had once happened to have been married. The 
gentlemen also broke up, and went on deck. 


198 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


We have a nice breeze now, my lord,” observ- 
ed Mr. Stewart, who had remained on deck, and 
w'e lie right up channel.” 

“ So much the better,” replied his lordship ; “ we 
ought to have been anchored at Cowes a week ago. 
They will all be there before us.” 

Tell Mr. Simpson to bring me a light for my 
cigar,” said Mr. Ossulton to one of the men. 

Mr. Stewart went down to his dinner j the ladies 
and the coffee came on deck 5 the breeze was fine, 
the weather (it was April) almost warm} and the 
yacht whose name v/as the Arrow, assisted by the 
tide, soon left the Mewstone far astern. 


CHAPTER IT. 

CUTTER THE SECOND. 

Reader, have you ever been at Portsmouth ? 
If you have, you must have been delighted with 
the view from the saluting battery, and, if you have 
not, you had better go there as soon as you can. 
From the saluting battery you may look up the har- 
bor, and see much of what 1 have described at Ply- 
mouth ; the scenery is different 5 but similar arsen- 
als and dock-yards, and an equal portion of our stu- 
pendous navy, are to be found there. And you will 
see Gosport on the other side of the harbor, and 
Sally Port close to you 3 besides a great many other 
places, which from the saluting battery you cannot 
see. And then there is Southsea Beach to your 
left. Before you, Spithead, with the men-of-war, 
and the Motherbank crowded with merchant vessels: 
— and there is the Buoy, where tlie Royal George 
was wrecked, and where she still lies, the fish swim- 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


199 


ming in and out her cabin windows : but that is not 
all ; you can also see the Isle of Wight, — Ryde, 
with its long wooden pier, and Cowes where the 
yachts lie. In fact, there is a great deal to be seen 
at Portsmonth a.s well as at Plymouth ; but what I 
wish you to see, just now, is a vessel holding fast 
to the buoy, just off the saluting battery. She is a 
cutter 5 and you may know that she belongs to the 
Preventive Service by the number of gigs and gal- 
leys which she has hoisted up all around her. She 
looks like a vessel that was about to sail with a car- 
go of boats. Two on deck, one astern, one on each 
side of her. You observe that she is painted black, 
and all her boats are white. She is not such an el- 
egant vessel as the yacht, and she is much more 
lumbered up. She has no haunches of venison 
over the stern ; but I think there is a leg of mut- 
ton and some cabbages hanging by their stocks. 
But revenue-cutters are not yachts. — You will find 
no turtle or champagne j but, nevertheless, you will, 
perhaps, find a joint to carve at, a good glass of grog, 
and a hearty welcome. 

Let us go on board. You observe the guns are 
iron, and painted black, and her bulwarks are paint- 
ed red j it is not a very becoming color ; but then 
it lasts a long while, and the dock-yard is not very 
generous on the score of paint — or lieutenants of 
the navy troubled much with spare cash. She has 
a plenty of men, and fine men they are ; all dress- 
ed in red flannel shirts, and blue trousers j some of 
them have not taken off their canvass or tarpaw- 
ling petticoats, which are very useful to them, as 
they are in the boats night and day, and in all 
weathers. But we will at once go down into the 
cabin, where we shall find the lieutenant who com- 
mands her, a master’s mate, and a midsliipman. — 
They have each their tumbler before them, and 
are drinking gin tpddy, hot, with sugar — capital gin, 
too, ’bove proof j it is from that small anker, stand- 


200 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


ing under tlie table. It was one that they forgot to 
return to the custom-house when they made their 
last seizure. We must introduce them. 

The elderly personage with grizzly hair and 
whiskers, a round pale face, and a somewhat red 
nose, (being too much in the wind will make the 
nose red, and this old officer is very often “ in the 
wind,’' of course, from the very nature of his pro- 
fession,) is a lieutenant Appleboy. He has served 
in every class of vessel in the service, and done the 
duty of first lieutenant for twenty years 3 he is now 
on promotion — that is to say, after he has taken a 
certain number of tubs of gin, he will be rewarded 
with his rank as commander. It is a pity that what 
he takes inside of him does not count, for he takes 
it morning, noon, and night.- — He is just filling his 
fourteenth glass ; he always keeps a regular account, 
as he never exceeds his limited number, which is 
seventeen : then he is exactly down to his bear- 
in^. 

The master's mate’s name is Tomkins ; he has 
served his six years three times over, and has now 
outgrown his ambition, which is fortunate for him, 
as his chances of promotion are small. He prefers 
a small vessel to a large one, because he is not 
obliged to be so particular in his dress — and looks 
for his lieutenancy whenever there shall be another 
charity promotion. He is fond of soft bread, for 
his teeth are all absent without leave j he prefers 
porter to any other liquor, but he can drink his 
glass of grog, whether it be based upon rum, bran- 
dy, or the liquor now before him. 

Mr. Smith is the name of that young gentleman 
w'hose jacket is so out at the elbows ; he has been 
intending to mend it these last two months, but he 
is too lazy to go to his chest for another. He has 
been turned out of half the ships in the service for 
laziness ; but he was born so— and therefore it is 
not his fault. — A revenue-cutter suits him, she is 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


201 


half her time liove to 5 and he has no objection to 
boat service, as he sits down always in the stern 
sheets, which is not fatiguing. Creeping for tubs 
is his delight, as he gets over so little ground. He 
is fond of grog, but there is some trouble in carry- 
ing the tumbler so often to his mouth j so he looks 
at it, and lets it stand. He says little, because he 
is too lazy t© speak. He has served more than 
ei^ht years; but as for passing — it has never come 
into his head. Such are the three persons who axe 
now sitting in the cabin of the revenue-cutter, 
drinking hot gin-toddy. 

“ Let me see, it was, I think, in ninety-three or 
ninety-four. — Before you were in the sendee, Tom- 
kins — 

“ May be sir j it's so long ago since I entered, 
that I can’t recollect dates, — but this I know, that 
my aunt died three days before.” 

“ Then the question is, when did your aunt 
die ?” 

Oh ! she died about a year after my uncle.” 

“ And when did your uncle die ?” 

I’ll be hanged if I know.” 

Then d’ye see, you’ve no departure to work 
from. However, I think you cannot have been in 
the service at that time. We were not quite so 
particular about uniform as we are now.” 

''Then I think the service was all the better for 
it. Now-a-days, in your crack ships, a mate has to 
go down in the hold or spirit-room, and after whip- 
ping up fifty empty casks, and breaking out twenty 
full ones, he is expected to come oh the quarter- 
deck as clean as if he was just come out of a band- 
box.” 

" Well, there’s a plenty of water alongside, as 
far as the outward man goes, and iron dust is soon 
brushed off. However, as you say, perhaps a little 
too much is expected j at least, in five of the ships 
in which I was first lieutenant, the captain was al- 


202 


THK THREE CUTTERS. 


ways hauling me over the coals about the midship- 
men not dressing properly, as if I was their dry 
nurse. I wonder what captain Prigg would have 
said, if he’d seen such a turn-out as you, Mr. 
Smith, on his quarter-deck.'' 

I should have had one turn-out more ” drawled 
Smith. 

With your out-at-elbows jacket, there, heh!" 
continued Mr. Appleboy. 

Smith turned up his elbows, looked at one and 
then at the other 5 after so fatiguing an operation 
he was silent. 

“ Well, where was I ? Oh ! it was about ninety- 
three or ninety-four, as I said, that it happened — 
Tomkins, fill your glass, and hand me the sugar, — 
how do I get on ? — This is No. 15," said Appleboy, 
counting some white lines on the table by him t 
and taking up a piece of chalk, he marked one 
more line on nis tally. “ I don’t think this so good 
a tub as the last, Tomkins, there’s a twang about it 
—a want of juniper — however, I hope we shall 
have better luck this time. Of course, you know 
we sail to-morrow." 

I presume so, by the leg of mutton coming on 
board." 

True— true — I'm regular — as clock-work. — Af- 
terbeing twenty years a first lieutenant, one gets a 
little method — I like regularity. Now the admiral 
has never omitted asking me to dinner once, every 
time I have come into harbor, except this time. 
I was so certain of it, that I never expected to sail, 
and I have but two shirts clean in consequence.” 

‘‘ That’s odd, isn’t it? and the more so, because 
he has had such great people down here, and has 
been giving large parties every day." 

And yet I made three seizures, besides sweep- 
ing up those thirty-seven tubs." 

I swept them up," observed Smith. 

Ti’hat’s all the same thing, yoimker. When 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


203 


you’ve been a little longer in the service, you’ll 
find out that the commanding officer has the merit 
of all that is done — but you’re green yet. — Let me 
see, where was I ? Oh! it was about ninety-three 
or ninety-four, as I said. At that time I was in the 
Channel fleet — Tomkins, I’ll trouble you for the 
hot water — this water’s cold. Mr. Smith, do me 
tl'.e favor to ring the bell — Jem, some more hot wa- 
ter.’" 

Please, sir,” said Jem, w'ho was barefooted, as 
well as bareheaded, touching the lock of hair on 
his forehead, ‘^the cook has capsized the kettle — but 
he has put more on,” 

Capsized the kettle ! hah ! — very well — we’ll 
talk about that to-morrow. Mr. Tomkins, do me 
the favor to put him in the report, I may forget it. 
And pray, sir, how long is it since he has put more 
on 

Just this moment, sir, as T came aft.” 

“ Very, w'ell, we’ll see to that to-morrow : — ^you 
bring the kettle aft as soon as it is ready, I say, 
Mr. Jem, is that fellow sober ?” 

Yees, sir, he be sober as you be.” 

It’s quite astonishing what a propensity the 
common sailors have for liquor. Forty odd years 
have I been in the service, and I’ve never found 
any difference : I only wish I had a guinea for eve- 
ry time that I have given a fellow seven-water grog 
during my servitude as first lieutenant, I would’nt 
call the king my cousin. Well, if there’s no hot 
water we must take lukewarm — it won’t do to 
heave to. By the lord Harry! who would have 
thought it? — I’m at No. 16 ! — Let me count — yes ! 
surely I must have made a mistake. A fact, by liea- 
ven !” continued Mr. Appleboy, throwing the chalk 
down on the table. “ Only one more glass, after 
this — that is, if 1 have counted right — 'I may have 
seen double.” 

Yes,” drawled Smith, ^ 


204 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


“ Well, never mind — Let’s go on with my story. 
*— Itwas either in the year ninety-three or ninety- 
four, that I was in the Channel fleet — we were 
then abreast of Torbay,” 

“ Here be the hot water sir,” cried Jem, putting 
the kettle down on the deck. 

Very well, boy. — By-the-by, has the iar of but- 
ter come on board ?” 

^‘Yes, but it be broke all down in the middle j I 
tied him up with a ropeyarn.” 

Who broke it, sir ?” 

Coxswain says as how he didn’t.” 

But who did, sir ?” 

Coxswain handed it up to Bill Jones, and he 
says as how he didn’t.” 

“ But who did, sir ?” 

Bill Jones gave it me, and I am sure as how I 
didn’t.” 

Then who did, sir, I ask you ?” 

I think it be Bill Jones, sir, ’cause he’s fond of 
butter, I know, and there be very little left in the 
jar.” 

“ Very well, we’ll see to that to-morrow morn- 
ing. Mr. Tomkins, you’ll oblige me by putting the 
butter jar down in the report, in case it should slip 
my memory. Bill Jones, indeed, looks as if butter 
wouldn’t melt in his mouth — never mind. Well, it 
was as I said before — it was in the year ninety- 
three or ninety-four, when I was in the Channel 
fleet ; we were then off Torbay, and had just taken 
two reefs in the topsails. Stop, before I go on with 
my story. I’ll take my last glass — I think it’s the 
last : let me count-— yes, by heavens I make out 
sixteen, well told ! INever mind, it shall be a stiff 
one. Boy, bring the kettle, and mind you don’t 
pour the hot water into my shoes, as you did the 
other night. There, that will do. ISow, Tomkins, 
fill up yours j and you, Mr. Smith ; let us all start 
fair, and then you shall have my story — and a very 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


£05 


curious one it is, I can tell you 3 I wouldn't have 
believed it myself, if I hadn’t seen it. Hilloa . 
what's this? Confound it! what's the matter with 
the toddy ? Heh, Mr. Tomkins ?" 

Mr. Tomkins tasted, but, like the lieutenant, he 
had made it very stiff j and, as he had also taken 
largely before, he was, like him, not quite so clear 
in his discrimination ; “ It has a queer twang, sir j 
Smith , what is it ?" 

Smith took up his glass, and tasted the contents : 

Salt loater,” drawled the midshipman. 

Salt water I so it is, by heavens !" cried Mr. 
Appleboy. 

“ Salt as Lot's wife ! — by all that's infamous !” 
cried the master's mate. 

Salt water, sir !" cried Jem, in a fright — ex- 
pecting a salt eel for supper. 

“ Yes, sir," replied Mr. Appleboy, tossing the 
contents of the tumbler in the boy s face, — salt 
water. Very well, sir — very well !" 

“ It warn't me, sir," replied the boy making up a 
piteous look. 

“ No, sir, but you said the cook was sober." 

“ He was- not so very much disguised, sir," re- 
plied Jem. 

“ O ! very well — never mind. Mr. Tomkins, in 
case I should forget it, do me the favor to put the 
kettle of salt water down in the report. The 
scoundrel ! I’m very sorry, gentlemen, but there’^ 
no means of having any more gin toddy, — but nev 
er mind, we’ll see to this to-morrow. Two can 
play at this 5 and if I don't salt-water their grog, 
and make them drink it too, I have been twenty 
years a first lieutenant for nothing — that's all. 
Good night, gentlemen 5 and,” continued the lieu- 
tenant, in a severe tone, “ you’ll keep a sharp look- 
out. Mr. Smith — do you hear, sir ?" 

Yes," drawled Smith, “ but its not my watch j. 
it was iny first v/atch, and. just now, it struck on^v 
bell." ' 


206 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


You’ll keep the middle watch, then, Mr. 
Smith,” said Mr, Appleboy, who was not a little put 
out ; and, Mr. Tomkins, let me know as soon as 
it is daylight. Boy, get my bedjnade. Saltwater, 
by all that’s blue ! However, vv^’ll see to that to- 
morrow morning.” 

Mr. Appleboy then turned in ; so did Mr. Tom- 
kins ; and so did Mr. Smith, who had no idea of 
keeping the middle watch because the cook was 
drunk and had filled up the kettle with salt water. 
As for what happened in ninety-three or ninety-four, 
I really would inform the reader if I knew, but I’m 
afraid that that most curious story is never to be 
handed down to posterity. 

The next morning, Mr. Tomkins, as usual, for- 
got to report the cook, the jar of butter, and the 
kettle of salt water ; and Mr. Appleboy’s wrath had 
long been appeased before he remembered them. 
At daylight the lieutenant came on deck, having on- 
ly slept away half of the sixteen, and a taste of the 
seventeenth salt water glass of gin toddy. He 
rubbed his gray eyes, that he might peer through 
the gray of the morning 5 the fresh breeze blew about 
his grizzly locks, and cooled his rubicund nose. 
The revenue-cutter, whose name was the “ Active,” 
cast off from the buoy} and with a fresh breeze, 
steered her course for the Needles’ passage. 


CHAPTER HI. 

CUTTER THE THIRD. 

Reader ! have you been to St. Maloes ? If you 
have, you were glad enough to leave the hole } and. 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


207 


if you have not, take my advice, and do not give 
yourself the trouble to go and see that, or any other 
French port in the ChanneL There is not one worth 
looking at. They have made one or two artificial 
ports, and they are no great things ; there is no get- 
ting out, or getting in. In fact, they have no har- 
bors in the Channel, while we have the finest in the 
world ; a peculiar dispensation of Providence, be- 
cause it knew that we should want them, and France 
would not. In France, what are called ports are all 
alike, nasty narrow holes, only to be entered at cer- 
tain times of tide and certain winds j made up of 
basins and backwaters, custom-houses, and cabarets5 
just fit for smugglers to run into, and nothing more: 
and, tlierefore, they are used for very little else. 

Now, in the dog-hole called St. Maloes there is 
some pretty land, although a great deficiency of 
marine-sceneiy. But never mind that : stay at 
home, and don’t go abroad to drink sour wine, be- 
cause they call it Bordeaux, and eat villainous trash, 
so disguised by cooking that you cannot possibly 
tell which of the birds of the air, or beasts of the 
field, or fishes of the sea, you are cramming down 
your throat. '^If all is right there is no occasion 
for disguise,” is an old saying j so depend upon it, 
that tliere is something wrong, and that you are eat- 
ing offal, under a grand P’rench name. They eat 
every thing in France, and would serve you up the 
head of a monkey who has died of the small-pox, 
as Sin^e au petite verole — that is if you did not un- 
derstand French; if you did, they would call it, 
Tete (Tcmour a V Ethorpiqiie, and then you would 
be even more puzzled. As for their wine, there is 
no disguise in that — it’s half vinegar. No, no ! 
stay at home : you can live just as cheaply, if you 
choose : and then you will have good meat, good 
vegetables, good ale, good beer, and a good glass 
of grog — and what is of more importance, you will 
be in good company. Live with your friends, and 
don’t inak? a fool of yourself. 


208 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


I would not have condescended to have noticed 
this place, had it not been that 1 wish you to ob- 
serve a vessel which is lying along the pier-wharf, 
with a plank from the shore to her gunnel. It is 
low water, and she is aground, and the plank dips 
down at such an angle, that it is a work of danger 
to go either in or out of her. You observe that 
there is nothing very remarkable in her. She is a 
cutter, and a good sea-boat, and sails well before 
the wind. She is short for her breadth of beam, 
and is not armed. Smugglers do not arm now — 
the service is too dangerous 5 they effect ther pur- 
pose by cunning, not by force. Nevertheless it re- 
quires that smugglers snould be good seamen, smart 
active fellows, and keen-witted, or they can do 
nothing. This vessel has not a large cargo in her. 
but it is valuable. She has some thousand yards of 
lace, a few hundred pounds of tea, a few bales of 
silk, and about forty ankers of brandy — just as much 
as they can land in one boat. All they ask is a 
heavy gale, or a thick fog, and they trust to them- 
selves fbr success. 

There is nobody on board except a boy ; the 
crew are all up at the cabaret, settling their little 
accounts of every description — for they smuggle 
both ways, and every man has his own private ven- 
ture. There they are all, fifteen of them, and fine- 
looking fellows, too, sitting at that long table. They 
are verv merrv, but quite sober, as they are to sail 
to-night. 

The captain of the vessel (whose name, by-the- 
by, is the Happy-go-lucky,'’ — the captain christ- 
ened her himself ) is that fine-looking young man, 
with dark whiskers, meeting under his throat. His 
name is Jack Pickersgill. You perceive, at once, 
that he is much above a common sailor in appear- 
ance. His manners ai-e good, he is remarkably 
handsome, very clean, and rather a dandy in his 
dress. Observe how very politely he takes oil’ his 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


209 


hat to that Frenchman, with whom he has just set- 
tled accounts 5 he beats Johnny Crapeau at his own 
weapons. And then there is an air of command, 
8 feeling of conscious superiority about Jack 5 see 
how he treats the landlord, de haul en bas, at the 
same time tliat he is very civil. The fact is, that 
Jack is of a very good, old family, and received a 
very excellent education : but he was an orphan, 
his friends were poor, and could do but little for 
him 5 he went out to India as a cadet, ran away, 
and sen'ed in a schooner which smuggled opium 
into China, and then came home. He took a liking 
to the employment, and is now laying up a very 
pretty little sum : not that he intends to stop 5 no, 
as soon as he has enough to fit out a vessel for him- 
self, he intends to start again for India, and with 
two cargoes of opium, he will return, he trusts, 
with a handsome fortune, and reassume his family 
name. Such are Jack’s intentions : and, as he 
eventually means to reappear as a gentleman, he 
preserves his gentlemanly habits 5 he neither drinks, 
nor chews, nor smokes. He keeps his hands clean, 
wears rings, and sports a gold snuff-box 5 notwith- 
standing which. Jack is one of the boldest and 
best of sailors, and the men know it. He is full 
of fun, and as keen as a razor. Jack has a very 
heavy venture this time — all the lace is his own 
speculation, and, if he gets it in safe, he will clear 
some thousands of pounds. A certain fashionable 
shop in London has already agreed to take the 
whole off his hands. 

That short, neatly made young man, is the second 
in command, and the companion of the captain. 
He is clever, and always has a remedy to propose 
when there is a difficulty, which is a great quality 
in a second in command. His name is Corbett. 
He is always merry^ — half sailor, half tradesman 5 
knovvs the markets, runs up to London, and does 
business as well as a chapman— lives for the day, 
and lauahs at to-morrow. H 


210 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


That little punchy old man, with long gray hair 
and fat face, with a nose like a note of interroga- 
tion, is the next personage of importance. He 
ought to be called the sailing master, for although 
he goes on shore in France, off the English coast 
he never quits the vessel. When they leave her 
with the goods, he remains on board 5 he is always 
to be found off any part of the coast where he may 
be ordered ; holding his position in defiance of 
gales, and tides, and fogs ; as for the revenue ves- 
sels, they all know him well enough, but they can- 
not touch a vessel in ballast, if sne has no more 
men on board than allowed by her tonnage. He 
knows every creek, and hole, and comer of the 
coast: how the tides run in — tide, half tide, eddy 
or current. That is his value. His name is Mor- 
rison. 

You observe that Jack Pickersmll has two excel- 
lent supporters in Corbett and Morrison 5 his other 
men are good seamen, active, and obedient, which 
is all that he requires. I shall not particularly in- 
troduce them. 

Now you may call for another litre., my lads, 
and that must be the last ; the tide is flowing fast, 
and we shall be afloat in half an hour, and we have 
just the breeze we want. What d’ye think, Morri- 
son, shall we have dirt 

I’ve been looking just now, and if it were any 
other month in the year I should say, yes } but 
there’s no trusting April, captain. Howsomever, if 
it does blow off, 111 promise you a fog in three hours 
afterwards.” 

That will do as well. Corbett, have you settled 
with Duval ?” 

Yes, after more noise and charivari than a pan- 
ic in the stock-exchange would make in England. 
He fought and squabbled for an' hour, and I found 
that, without some abatement, I never should have 
settled the affair.” 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


211 


What did you let him off V’ 

'* Seventeen sous/’ replied Corbett, laughing. 

And that satisfied him V’ inquired Pickersgill. 

Yes — ’it was all he could prove to be a suifaire: 
two of the knives were a little rusty. But he 
will always have something off ; he could not be 
happy without it. I really think he would com- 
mit suicide, if he had to pay a bill without a de- 
duction.” 

“ Let him live,” replied Pickersgill. Jeannette, 
a bottle of Volnay, of 1811, and three glasses.” 

Jeannette, who was the JUle de cabaret, soon ap- 
peared with a bottle of wine seldom called for, ex- 
cept by the captain of the Happy-go-lucky. 

“ You sail to-night ?” said she, as she placed the 
bottle before him. 

Pickersgill nodded his head. 

‘‘ I had a strange dream,” said Jeannette ; “ I 
thought you were all taken by a revenue cutter, 
and put into a cachot. I went to see you, and I 
did not know one of you again — ^you were all 
changed.” 

Very likely, Jeannette — ^you would not be the' 
first who did not know their friends again when in 
misfortune. There was nothing strange in your 
dream.” 

“ Mats, mon Dieu! je ne suis pas comme ca^ 
moV’ 

“ No, that you are not, Jeannette ; you are a good 
girl, and some of these fine days Pll marry you,” 
said Corbett. 

Doit etre bien beau cejour la, par example,” re- 
plied Jeannette, laughing 3 you have promised to 
marry me every time you have come in, these Ir.st 
three years.” 

^^Well that proves I keep to my promise, anyhow.” 

^‘Yes, but you never go any mrther.” 

*'• I can’t spare him, Jeannette, that is the real 
truth,” said tne captain} ‘‘ but w^ait a little — in the 


212 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


mean time, here is a five-frank piece to add to your 
petite fortune.” 

“ Merci bien, monsieur le capitaine; bon voyage !” 

Jeannette held her finger up to Corbett, saying, 
with a smile, mechant !” and then quitted the 
room. 

“ Come Morrison, help us to empty this bottle, 
and then we will all go on board.’’ 

“ I wish that girl wouldn’t come here with her 
nonsensical dreams,” said Morrison, taking his 
seat ; I dont like it. ^Vhen she said that we 
should be taken by a revenue cutter, I was looking 
at a blue and a white pigeon sitting on the wall op- 
posite; and I said to myself, now, if that be a 
warning, I will see : if the blue pigeon flies away 
first, I shall be in jail in a week ; if the white, I 
shall be back here.” 

Well ?” said Pickersgill, laughing. 

It wasn’t well,” answered Morrison, tossing 
olf his wine, and putting the glass down with a 
deep sigh ; “ for the cursed blue pigeon flew away 
immediately.” 

Why Morrison, you must have a chicken heart 
to be frightened at a blue pigeon,” said Corbett, 
laughing, and looking out of the window ; at all 
events, ne has come back again, and there he is sit- 
ting by the white one.” 

“ It’s the first time that ever I was called chick- 
en-hearted,” replied Morrison, in wrath. 

“ Nor do you deserve it, Morrison,” replied Pick- 
ersgill ; “ But Corbett is only joking.” 

“ Well, at all events, I’ll try my luck in the same 
way, and see whether I am to be in jail : I shall 
take the blue pigeon as my bad omen, as you did.” 

The sailors and captain Pickersgill all rose and 
went to the window, to ascertain Corbett’s fortune 
by this new species of augury. The blue pigeon 
flapped his wings, and then he sidled up to the 
white one ; at last the white pigeon flew off the 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


213 


wall and settled on the roof of the adjacent house. 

Bravo ! white pigeon,” said Corbett 3 “ I shall be 
here again in a week.” The whole party, laughing, 
then resumed their seats 5 and Morrison’s counte- 
nance brightened up. As he took the glass of wine 

S oured out by Pickersgill, he said, ‘‘ Here’s your 
ealth, Corbett ; it was all nonsense, after all — for, 
d’ye see, I can’t be put in jail without you are. 
We all sail in the same boat, and when you leave 
me,you take with you every thing that can condemn 
the vessel — so here’s success to our trip.” 

“ We will all drink that toast, my lads, and then 
on board,” said the captain j here’s success to our 
tri ” 



The captain rose, as did the mates and men 
drank the toast, turned down the drinking vessels 
on the table, hastened to the wharf, and, in half 
an hour, the Happy-go-lucky was clear of the 


ail iiwui. ciic; 

port of St. Maloes. 


CHAPTER IV. 


PORTLAND BILL. 


The Happy-go-lucky sailed with a fresh breeze 
and a flowing sheet from St. Maloes, the evening 
before the Arrow sailed from Barn Pool. The Ac- 
tive sailed from Portsmouth the morning after. 

The yacht, as we before observed, was bound to 
Cowes, in the isle of Wight. The Active had or- 
ders to cruise wherever she pleased, within the 
limits of the admiral’s station 3 and she ran for West 
Bay, on the other side of the Bill of Portland, 
The Happy-go-lucky was also bound for that bay to 
land her cargo. 


214 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


The wind was light, and there was every appear- 
ance of fine weather, when the Happy-go-lucky, 
at ten o’clock on Tuesday night, made the Portland 
lights 5 as it was impossible to run her cargo that 
night, she hove to. 

At eleven o’clock, the Portland lights were made 
by the revenue cutter, Active. Mr. Appleboy went 
up to have a look at them, ordered the cutter to be 
hove to, and then went down to finish his allowance 
of gin-toddy. At twelve o’clock, the yacht Arrow 
made the Portland lights, and continued her course, 
hardly stemming the ebb tide. 

Day broke, and the horizon was clear. The first 
on the look-out were, of course, the smugglers j 
they, and those on board of the revenue cutter, 
were the only two interested parties — the yacht 
was neuter. 

“ There are two cutters in sight, sir,” said Cor- 
bett, who had the watch 5 for Pickersgill, having 
been up almost the whole night, had thrown him- 
self down on his bed with his clothes on. 

What do they look like 1” said Pickersgill, who 
was up in a moment. 

“ One is a yacht, and the other may be 5 but I 
rather think, as far as I can judge in the gray, that 
it is our old friend off here.” 

“ What ! old Appleboy ?” 

Yes, it looks like him} but the day has scarce- 
ly broke yet.” 

'' Well, he can do nothing in a light wind like 
this } and, before the wind we can show him our 
heels ; but are you sure tlie other is a yacht ?” said 
Pickersgill coming on the deck. 

“ Yes } the king is more careful of his canvass.” 

“ You’re right,” said Pickersgill, ^‘that is a yacht} 
and you’re right there again in your guess — that is 
the stupid old Active, which creeps about creeping 
for tubs. Well, I see nothing to alarm us at pres- 
ent, provided it don’t fall a dead calm, and then we 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


215 


must take to our boats as soon as he takes to his j 
we are four miles from him at least. Watch his 
motions, Corbett, and see if he lowers a boat. 
What does she go now ? four knots — that will soon 
tire their men.’* 

The positions of the three cutters were as fol- 
lows : — 

The Happy-go-lucky was about four miles off 
Portland Head, and well into West Bay. The re- 
venue cutter was close to the Head. The yacht 
was outside of the smuggler about two miles to the 
westward, and about five or six miles from the re- 
venue cutter. 

‘‘ Two vessels in sight, sir,” said Mr. Smith, com- 
ing down into the cabin to Mr. Appleboy. 

“ Very well,” replied the lieutenant, who was 
lying down in his standing bed-place. 

The people say one is the Happy-go-lucky, sir,” 
drawled Smith. 

^'Heh? what! Happy-go-lucky? yes, I recollect; 
Pve boarded her twenty times— -always empty. 
How’s she standing ?” 

'‘She stands to the westward now, sir; but she 
was hove to, they say, when they first saw her.” 

“Then she has a cargo in her;” and Mr. Apple- 
boy shaved himself, dressed, and went on deck. 

“ Yes,” said the lieutentant, rubbing his eyes 
again and again, and then looking through the glass, 
“it is her sure enough. Let draw the fore-sheet — 
hands, make sail. What vessel’s the other ?” 

“ Don’t know, sir, — she’s a cutter.” 

“ A cutter ? yes ; may be a yacht, or may be the 
new cutter ordered on the station. Make all sail, 
Mr. Tomkins ; hoist our pendant, and fire a gun— 
they will understand what we mean then ; they don’t 
know the Happy-go-lucky as well as we do.’’ 

In a few minutes the Active was under a press 
of sail ; she hoisted her pendant, and fired a gun. 
The smuggler perceived mat the Active had recog- 


216 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


nised her, and she also threw out more canvass, 
and ran off more to the westward. 

There’s a gun, sir,” reported one of the men 
to Mr. Stewart j on board of the yacht. 

'‘Yes 5 give me the glass — a revenue cutter j 
then this vessel in shore, running towards us, must 
be a smuggler.” 

“ She has just now made all sail, sir.” 

“ Yes, there’s no doubt of it 3 I will go down to 
his lordship — keep her as she goes.” 

Mr. Stewart then went down to inform lord B. 
of the circumstance. Not only lord B., but most 
of the gentlemen came on deck 3 as did soon after- 
wards the ladies, who had received the intelligence 
from lord B., who spoke to them through the door 
of the cabin. 

But the smuggler had more wind than the reve- 
nue cutter, and increased her distance. 

“ If we vvere to wear round now, my lord,” ob- 
served Mr. Stewart, “she is just abreast of us and 
in shore, we could prevent her escape.” 

“ Round with her, Mr. Stewart,’’ said lord B., 
“we must do our duty and protect the laws.” 

“That will not be lair, papa,” said Cecilia Ossul- 
ton, “ we have no quarrel with the smugglers 3 I’m 
sure the ladies have not, for they bring us beautiful 
things.” 

“ Miss Ossulton,” observed her aunt, “it is not 
proper for you to offer an opinion.” 

Tlie yacht wore round, and, sailing so fast, the 
smuggler had little chance of escaping her 3 but to 
chase is one thing — to capture, another. 

“ l.et us give her a gun,” said lord B., “ that will 
frighten her 3 and he dare not cross our hawse.” 

The gun was loaded, and not being more than 
a mile from the smuggler, actually threw the ball 
almost a quarter of the way. 

The gentlemen, as well as lord B., were equally 
excited by the ardor of pursiiit3 but the wind died 


THE THREE CUTl'ERS. 


217 


away, and at last it was nearly calm. The revenue 
cutter’s boats were out, and coming up fast. 

Let us get our boat out, Stewart,” said his lord- 
ship, ‘^and help them 3 it is quite calm now.” 

'J’iie boat was soon out : it was a very large one, 
usually stowed on, and occupied a large portion of 
the deck. It pulled six oars 3 and when it was 
manned, Mr. Stewart jumped in, and lord 13 . fol- 
lowed him. 

“ But you have no arms,” said Mr. Hautaine. 

Tile smugglers never resist now,” observed 
Stewart. 

“ Then you are going on a very gallant expedi- 
tion, indeed,” observed Cecilia Ossulton 3 “I wish 
you joy.” 

But lord B. was too much excited to pay atten- 
tion. They shoved of}', and pulled towards the 
smuggler. 

At this time the revenue boats were about five 
miles astern of the Happy-go-lucky, and the yacht 
about three quarters of a mile froin her in the offing. 
Pickersgill had, of course, observed the motions 
of the yacht 3 had seen her wear on chase, hoist 
her ensign and pendant, and fire her gun. 

''Well,” said he, '‘this is the blackest ingrati- 
tude 3 to be attacked by the very people whom w'o 
smuggle for. I only wish she may come up with 
us 3 and, let her attempt to interfere, she shall rue 
the day ; 1 don’t much like this, though.” 

As we before observed 3 it fell nearly calm, and 
the revenue boats were in chase. Pickersgill watch- 
ed them as they came up. 

“ What shall we do,” said Corbett, — ^'get the 
boat out ?” 

‘‘ Yes,” replied Pickersgill, ''we will get the boat 
out, and have tlie goods m her all ready ; but we 
can pull faster t^ian they do, in the first place 3 and, 
in the next, they will be pretty well tired before 
they come up to us. We are fresh, and shall soon 


218 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


walk away-from them 5 so I shall not leave the ves- 
sel till they are within half a mile. We must sink 
the ankers, that they may not seize the vessel j for 
it is not worth while taking them with us. Pass 
them along ready to run them over the bows, that 
they may not see us and swear to it. But we have 
a good half hour and more.” 

Ay, and you may hold all fast if you choose,” 
said Morrison, although it’s better to be on the 
right side and get ready j otherwise, before half an 
hour. I’ll swear that we are out of their sight ; 
look there,” said he, pointing to the eastward at a 
heavy bank, it’s coming right down upon us, as I 
said it would.” 

“ True enough, but still there is no saying which 
will come up farst, Morrison, the boats or the fog • 
so we must be prepared.” 

Hilloa ! what’s this ? why, there’s a boat com- 
ing from the yacht.” 

Pickersgill took out his glass. 

Yes, and the yacht’s own boat, with tlie name 
painted on her bows. Well, let them come — we 
will have no ceremony in resisting them ; they are 
not in the act of parliament, and must take the con- 
sequences. We have naught to fear. Get stretch- 
ers, my lads, and hand-spikes } they row six oars, 
and are three in the stern-sheets — they must be 
good men if they take us.” 

In a few minutes lord B, was close to the smug- 
gler. 

Boat, ahoy ! what do you want ?” 

Surrender, in the king’s name.” 

To what, and to whom, and what are we to 
surrender ? We are an English vessel coasting 
along shore.” 

‘‘Pull on board, my lads,” cried Stewart j “I am 
a king’s officer — we know her.” 

The boat darted alongside, and Stewart and lord 
B., followed by the men, jumped on the deck. 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 219 

Well, gentlemen, what do you want 1 ” said 
Tickersgill. 

We seize you — ^you are a smuggler j there’s no 
denying it — look at the casks of spirits stretched 
along the deck.’’ 

“ We never said that we were not smugglers/’ 
replied Pickersgill ; but what is that to you ? you 
are not a king’s ship, or employed by the revenue.” 

No, but we carry a pendant, and it is our duty 
to protect the laws.” 

“ And who are you ?” said Pickersgill. 

I am lord B.” 

Then, my lord, allow me to say that you would 
do much better to attend to the framing of laws, 
and leave people of less consequence, like those 
astern of me, to execute them. ‘ Mind your own 
business,’ is an old adage. We shall not hurt you, 
my lord, as you have only employed words, but we 
shall put it out of your power to hurt us. Come 
aft, my lads. Now, my lord, resistance is useless ; 
we are double your numbers, and you have caught 
a Tartar.” 

Lord B. and Mr. Stewart perceived that they 
were in an awkward predicament. 

You may do what you please,” observed Mr. 
Stewart, “but the revenue boats are coming up, re- 
collect.” 

“ Look you, sir, do you see the revenue cutter ?” 
said Pickersgill. 

Stewart looked in that direction, and saw that 
she was hidden in the fog. 

“ In five minutes, sir, the boats will be out of 
sight also, and so will your vessel 3 w'e have nothing 
to fear from them.” 

•• Indeed, my lord, we had better return,” said 
Mr. Stewart, who perceived that Pickersgill was 
right. 

“ I beg your pardon, you will not go on board of 
your yacht so soon as you expect. Take the oars 


220 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


out of the boat, my lads, two or three of you, and 
throw in a couple of our paddles for them to reach 
the shore with. The rest of you knock down the 
first man who offers to resist. You are not aware, 
perhaps, my lord, that you have attempted piracy 
on the high seas ” 

Stewart looked at lord B. It was true enough. 
The men of the yacht could offer no resistance j 
the oars were taken out the boat, and the men put 
in again. 

‘‘My lord,’^ said Pickersgill, “your boat is man- 
ned — do me the favor to step into it ; and you, sir. 
do the same. I should be sorry to lay my hands 
upon a peer of the realm, or a kings officer even 
on half pay.’^ 

Remonstrance was vain ; his lordship was led to 
the boat by two of the smugglers, and Stewai't fol- 
lowed. 

“ I will leave your oars, my lord, at the Wey- 
mouth custom-house 5 and I trust this will be a les- 
son to you in future to ‘ mind your own business.’ ” 

The boat was shoved off from the sloop by the 
smugglers, and was soon lost sight of in the fog, 
which had now covered the revenue boats, as well 
as the yacht j at the same time, it brought down a 
breeze from the eastward. 

“Haul to the wind, Morrison,” said Pickersgill, 
“ We will stand out to get rid of the boats j if they 
pull on, they will take it for granted that we shall 
run into the bay, as will the revenue cutter. 

Pickersgill and Corbett were in conversation abaft 
for a short time,when the former desired the course 
to be altered two points. 

“ Keep silence all of you, my lads, and let me 
know if you hear a gun or a bell from the yacht,” 
said Pickersgill. 

“ There is a gun, sir, close to us,” said one of the 
men — “ the sound was right ahead.” 

“ That will do, keep her as she goes. Aft; here 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


221 


my lads : we cannot run our cargo in the bay, for 
the cutter has been seen to chase us, and they will 
all be on the look-out at the preventative stations 
for us on the shore. Now, my lads, I have made 
up my mind that, as these yacht gentlemen have 
thought proper to interfere, that I will take posses- 
sion of the yacht for a few days. We shall then 
outsail every tiling, go where we like unsuspected, 
and land our cargo with ease. I shall run along 
side of her — she can have but few hands on board 5 
and mind, do not hurt any body, but be civil and 
obey my orders. Morrison, you and your four 
men and the boy will remain on board as before, 
and take the vessel to Cherbourg, where we will 
join you.” 

In a short time another gun was fired from the 
yacht. Tliose on board, particularly the ladies, 
were alarmed j the fog was very thick, and they 
could not distinguish the length of the vessel. 
They had seen the boat board, but had not seen 
her turned adrift without oars, as the fog came on 
just at that time. The yacht was left with only 
three seamen on board, and, should it come on bad 
weather they were in an awkward predicament. 
Mr. Hautaine had taken the command, and ordered 
the guns to be fired that the boat might be enabled 
to find them. The fourth gun was loading, when 
they perceived the smugglers’ cutter close to them, 
looming through the fog. 

Here they are,” cried the seamen j “ and they 
have brought the prize along with them. Three 
cheers for the Arrow !” 

“ Hilloa ! you’ll be on board of us,” cried Hau- 
taine. 

“ That’s exactly what I intended to be, sir,” re- 
plied Pickersgill, jumping on the quarter-deck fol- 
lowed by his men. 

Who the devil are you ?” 

“ That’s exactly the same question that I asked 


222 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


lord B. when he boarded us,” replied Pickersgill, 
taking oft his hat to the ladies. 

Well, but what business have you here ?” 
Exactly the same question which 1 put to lord 
B.,” replied Pickersgill. 

“ Where is lord B., sir V’ said Cecilia Ossulton, 
going up to the smuggler; is he safe 

“ Yes, madam, he is safe ; at least he is in his 
boat with all his men, and unhurt — but you must 
excuse me, if I request you and the other ladies to 
go down below'^, while I speak to these gentlemen. 
Be under no alarm, miss ; you will receive neither 
insult nor ill-treatment — I have only taken posses- 
sion of this vessel for the present.” 

“ Take possession,” cried Hautaine, “ of a 
yacht 1” 

''Yes, sir, since the owner of the yacht thought 
proper to attempt to take possession of me. I al- 
ways thought that yachts were pleasure vessels, 
sailing about for amusement, respected themselves, 
and not interfering with others ; but it appears that 
such is not the case. The owner of this yacht has 
thought proper to break through the neutrality, 
and commence aggression ; and, under such cir- 
cumstances, I have now,in retaliation, taken posses- 
sion of her.” 

" And, pray, what do you mean to do, sir 

" Simply, for a few days, to make an exchange. 
I shall send you on board of my vessel as smugglers, 
while I remain here with the ladies, and amuse 
myself wdth yachting.” 

" Why, sir, you cannot mean — ” 

" I have said, gentlemen, and that is enough ; I 
should be sorry to resort to violence, but I must be 
obeyed. You have, I perceive, three seamen only 
left : they are not sufficient to lake charge of the 
vessel, and lord B. and the others you w ill not meet 
for several days. My regard for the ladies — even 
common humanity, points out to rne that T cannot 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


223 


leave the vessel in this crippled condition. At the 
same time, as I must have hands on board of my 
own, you will oblige me by going on board, and ta- 
king her safely into port. It is the least return you 
can make for my kindness. In those dresses, gen- 
tlemen, you will not be able to do your duty 5 oblige 
me by shifting, and putting on these.” Corbett 
handed a flannel shirt, a rough jacket and trousers, 
to Messrs. Hautaine, Ossulton, Vaughan, and Sea- 
grove. After some useless resistance they were 
stripped, and, having put on the smugglers’ attire, 
they were handed on board of the Happy-go- 
lucky. 

The three English seamen were also sent on 
board, and confined below, as well as Ossulton’s 
servant, who was also equipped like his master, 
and confined below with the seamen. Corbett and 
the men then handed up all the smuggled goods in- 
to the yacht, dropped the boat, and made it fast 
astern j and Morrison having received his directions, 
the vessels separated — Morrison running for Cher- 
bourg, and Pickersgill steering the yacht along 
shore to the westward. About an hour after this 
exchange had been effected, the fog cleared up, and 
showed the revenue cutter hove to for her boats, 
which had pulled back, and were close on board of 
her 5 and the Happy-go-lucky, about three miles in 
the offing. Lord B. and his boat’s crew were about 
four miles in shore, paddling and drifting with the 
tide towards Portland. As soon as the boats were 
on board, the revenue cutter made all sail after the 
smuggler, paying no attention to the yacht, and ei- 
ther not seeing or not caring about the boat which 
was drifting about in West Bay. 


224 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


CHAPTER V. 

THE TRAVESTIE. 

Here we are, Corbett} and now I only wish 
my venture had been double/' observed Pickers- 
gill 5 but I shall not allow business to absorb me 
wholly — we must add a little amusement. It ap- 
pears to me, Corbett, that the gentleman’s clothes 
which lie there will fit you, and those of the good 
looking fellow who was spokesman will, I am sure, 
suit me well. Wow let us dress ourselves,and then 
for breakfast.” 

Pickersgill then exchanged his clothes for those 
of Mr. Hautaine, and Corbett fitted on those of 
Mr. Ossulton. The steward was summoned up, 
and he dared not disobey. He appeared on deck, 
trembling. 

Steward, you will take these clothes below,” 
said Pickersgill 5 “ and, observe, I now command 
this yacht 5 and, during the time that I am on board, 
you will pay me the same respect as you did lord B.} 
nay, more, you will always address me as lord B. 
You will prepare dinner and breakfast, and do your 
duty just as if his lordship was on board} and take 
care that you feed us well, for I will not allow the 
ladies to be entertained in a less sumptuous man- 
ner than before : you will tell the cook what I say — 
and now that you have heard me, take care that 
you obey : if not, recollect that I have my own 
men here, and if I but point with my finger, over- 
board you go. Do you perfectly comprehend me?” 

“ Yes, — sir,” stammered the steward. 

‘‘ Yes, sir ! What did I tell you, sirrah ? — Yes, 
my lord. Do you understand me ?” 

“ Yes, — my lord.” 

“ Pray, steward, whose clothes has this gentle- 
man, put on ?” 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


225 


Mr. — Mr. Ossulton's, I think, sir — my lord — I 
mean.'' 

“ Very well, steward 5 then recollect, in future 
you always address that gentleman as Mr, OssiU- 
ton.” 

“ Yes, my lord,” — and the steward went down be- 
low, and was obliged to take a couple of glasses of 
brandy, to keep himself from fainting. 

“ Who are they, and what are they ! Mr. Mad- 
dox V' cried the lady's maid, who had been weep- 
ing. 

“ Pirates ! — bloody, murderous, stick-at-noihing 
pirates !” replied the steward. 

^^Oh!” screamed the lady'r maid, what will 
become of us, poor unprotected females !” and she 
hastened into the cabin to impart this dreadful in- 
telligence. 

The ladies in the cabin were not in a very envia- 
ble situation. As for the elder miss Ossulton, (but 
perhaps it will be better,, in future, to distinguish 
the two ladies, by calling the elder simply miss Os- 
sulton, and her neice Cecilia,) she was sitting with 
her salts to her nose, agonized with a mixture of 
trepidation and wounded pride. Mrs. Lascelles 
was weeping, but weeping gently. Ceciliawas sad, 
and her heart was beating with anxiety and suspense 
when the maid rushed in. 

“ Oh, madam ! Oh, miss ! Oh, Mrs. Lascelles ! 1 
have found it all out ! — they are murderous, bloody, 
do-every-thing pirates ! ! !” 

Mercy on us !” exclaimed miss Ossulton, “ sure- 
ly they will never dare — 

'' Oh, ma’am, they dare any thing ! — they just 
now were throwing the steward overboard, — and 
they have rumaged all the portmanteaus, and dres- 
sed themselves in the gentleman’s best clothes. 
The captain of t^iem told the steward that he was 
lord B.— and that if he dared to call him any thing 
else, he w'ould cut his throat from ear to ear — and 
1.5 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


226 

if the cook don’t give them a good dinner, they 
swear that they’ll chop his right hand off, and make 
him eat it without pepper or salt !” 

Miss Ossulton screamed, and went off into hys- 
terics— Mrs. Lascelles and Cecilia went to her as- 
sistance } but the latter had not forgotten the very 
different behaviour of Jack Pickersgill, and his po- 
lite manners, when he boarded the vessel. She 
did not, therefore, believe what the maid had repor- 
ed, but still her anxiety and suspense were great, 
especially about her father. After having restor- 
ed her aunt, she put on her bonnet, which was lying 
on the sofa. 

Where are you going, dear ?” said Mrs. Las- 
celles. 

“ On deck,’’ replied Cecilia j I must and will 
speak to these men.” 

Gracious heavens ! miss Ossulton 5 going on 
deck ! Have you heard what Phoebe says V' 

“■ Yes, aunt, 1 have — but I can w'ait here no lon- 
ger.” 

Stop her ! stop her ! — she will be murdered ! — 
she will be — she is mad !” screamed miss Ossultonj 
but no one attempted to stop Cecilia, and on deck 
she went. On her arrival, she found Jack Pickers- 
gill and Corbett w'alking the deck j one of the 
smugglers at the helm, and the rest forward, and as 
quiet as the crew of the yacht. As socn as she 
made her appearance. Jack took off his hat, and 
made her a bow. 

“I do not know whom I have the honor of ad- 
dressing young lady! but lam flattered with this 
mark of confidence. You feel, and 1 assure you, 
you feel correctly, that you are not exactly in law'- 
less hands.” 

Cecilia looked with more surprise tlian fear at 
Pickersgill 5 Mr. Hautaine’s dress became him ; he 
vv’as a handsome fine-looking man, and had nothincr 
of the ruffian in his appoaranco, unless. like Bvron’s 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


227 


Corsair, he was half savage, half soft. She could 
not help thinking that she had met many with less 
pretensions, as far as appearance went, to the 
claims of a gentleman, at Almack’s and other fash- 
ionahle circles. 

1 have ventured on deck, sir,’’ said Cecilia, 
with a little tremulousness in her voice, “ to re- 
quest as a favor, that you will inform me what your 
intentions may be, with regard to the vessel, and 
with regard to the ladies V' 

'■ And I feel much obliged to you for your so do- 
ing, and I assure you 1 will, as far as I have made 
U;: my own mind, answer you candidly j but you 
tremble — allow me to conduct you to a seat. In 
few words, then, to remove your present alarm, I 
intend that the vessel shall be returned to its owner, 
with every article in it as religiously respected as 
if they were church property. With respect to 
you, and the other ladies on board, I pledge you 
my Jionor that you have nothing to fear ; that you 
shall be treated with every respect 3 your privacy 
never invaded; and that, in a lew days, you will 
be restored to your friends. Young lady, I pledge 
my hopes of future salvation to the trutli of this ; 
but, at the same time, 1 must make a few conditions, 
which, however, will net be very severe.’’ 

“ But, sir,” replied Cecilia, much relieved — for 
rickcrsgill ImJ stood by Ijer in the most respectful 
manner, you are, I presume, the captain of the 
smuggler ? Pray, answer me one question more : 
what became of the boat with lord B., — he is my 
father ?” 

“ I left him in liis boat, without a hair of his 
head touched, young lady ; but I took away the 
oars.” 

Then he wall perish !” cried Cecilia, putting 
her handkerchief to her eyes. 

'^JNio, young lady; he is on shore probably by 
this time ; although I took away his means of as- 


228 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


sisting to capture us, I left him the means of gain- 
ing the land. It is not every one vvho would have 
done that, after his conduct to us.” 

“ I begged him not to go,” said Cecilia j I told 
him that it was not fair — and that he had no quar- 
rel with the smugglers.” 

‘‘ I thank you even for that,” replied Pickersgill 5 

and now, miss, I have not the pleasure of recol- 
lecting his lordship’s family name.” 

“ Ossulton, sir, ’’said Cecilia, looking at Pickers- 
gill with surprise. 

“ Then, with youv permission, miss Ossulton, I 
will now make you my confidant 5 excuse my using 
so free a term — but it is because I wish to relieve 
your fears 3 at the same time, 1 cannot permit you 
to divulge all my intentions to the whole party on 
board ; I feel that I may trust you, for you have 
courage — and where there is courage, there gener- 
ally is truth ; but you must first tell me whether you 
will condescend to accept these terms ?” 

Cecilia demurred a moment : the idea of being 
the confidant of a smuggler rather startled her 3 but 
still, her knowledge of what his intentions were, if 
she might not reveal them, might be important 3 as 
perhaps she might persuade him. She could be in 
no worse position than she w'as now, and she might 
be in a much better. The conduct of Pickersgill 
had been such, up to the present, as to inspire con- 
fidence 3 and although he defied the laws, he ap- 
peared to regard the courtesies of life. Ceciliawas 
a courageous girl, and at length she replied : — 

'• Provided what you desire me to keep secret 
will not be injurious to any one, or compromise 
me, in my peculiar situation, I consent.” 

“ I would not liurt a fly, miss Ossulton, but in 
self-defence, and I have too much respect for you, 
from your conduct during our short meeting, to 
compromise you. Allow me now to be very candid, 
and then, perhaps, you v.'ill acknowledge that, in 


THE THREE CU'ITERS. 


229 


my situation, others would do the same 3 and, per- 
haps, not show half so much forbearance. Your 
fatjier, without any right whatever, interferes with 
me and my calling 3 he attempts to make me a pris- 
oner, to have me thrown in jail — heavily lined, and 
perhaps sent out of the country. I will not enter 
into any defence of smuggling : it is sufficient to 
say, that there are pains and penalties attached to 
the infraction of certain laws, and that I choose to 
risk them 3 but lord B. was not empowered by gov- 
ernment to attack me : it was a gratuitous act, and 
had I tJirown him and all his crew into tlie sea, 1 
should have been justified — for it was, in short, an 
act of piracy on their part. Now, as your father 
has thought proper to turn a yacht into a revenue 
cutter, you cannot be surprised at my retaliating 
and turning her into a smuggler — and as he has 
mixed up looking after the revenue with yachting 
he cannot be surprised if I retaliate, by mixing up 
a little yachting with smuggling. I have dressed 
your male companions as smugglers, and have sent 
them in the smuggling vessel to Cherbourg, where 
they will be safely landed — and I have dressed my- 
self and the only person whom I could join with 
me in this frolic, as gentlemen, in their places. 
My object is twofold : one is, to land my cargo, 
which 1 have now on board, and which is very valu- 
able 3 the other is, to retaliate upon your father and 
his companions, for their attempt upon me, by step- 
ping into their shoes, and enjoying for a day or two, 
their luxuries. It is my intention to make free 
with nothing, but his lordship’s wine and eatables — 
that you may be assured of : but I shall have no 
pleasure if the ladies do not sit down to the din- 
ner-table w'lth us, as they did before, with your fa- 
ther and his friends."’ 

•'You can hardly expect that, sir,” said Cecilia. 

•' Yes, I do 3 and that will be not only the price 
ef the early release of the yacht and themselves, 


230 


thf: threk cutters. 


but it will also be the only means by which they 
will obtain any thing to dat. You observe, miss 
Ossulton, the sins of the father are visited on the 
children. I have now told you what I mean to do, 
and what I wish. I leave yon to think of it, and 
decide whether it will not be best for all parties to 
consent. You have my permission to tell the other 
ladies, that, whatever may be their conduct, they 
are as secure from ill treatment or rudeness, as if 
they were in Grosvenor-square ; but I cannot an- 
swer that they will not be hungry, if, after such for- 
bearance in every point, they show so little grati- 
tude as not to honor me with their company.” 

“ Then I am to understand, that wc are to be 
starved into submission.” 

“ISo, not starved, miss Ossulton 5 but recollect, 
that you will be on bread and water, and detained 
until you do consent, and your detention will in- 
crease the an.viety of your father.” 

“You know how to persuade, sir.” said Cecilia. 
“ As far as I am concerned, I trust I shall ever be 
ready to sacrifice any feelings of pride, to spare my 
father so much uneasiness. With your permission, 
I will now go down into the cabin, and relieve my 
companions from the worst of their fears. As for 
obtaining what you wish, I can only say, that as a 
young person, 1 am not likely to have much influ- 
ence with those older than mytjelf, and must inevi- 
tably be overruled, as I have not permission to point 
out to them reasons which might avail. Would 
you so far allow me to be relieved from mypromise, 
as to communicate all you have said to me, to the 
only married v/oman on board ? I think I then 
might obtain your wishes, which I must candidly 
tell you, I shall attempt to effect, only because I 
am most an.xious to rejoin my friends.” 

“ And be relieved from my company,” replied 
Pickersgill, smiling, ironically, — “ of course you 
are 5 but 1 must and wall have my petty revenge j 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


231 


and although you may, and probably will detest me, 
at all events, you shall not have any very formida- 
ble charge to make against me. — Before you go be- 
low, miss Ossulton, I give you my permission to add 
the married lady to the number of my confidants; 
and you must permit me to introduce mv friend, Mr. 
Ossulton,” and Pickersgill waved his hand in the 
direction of Corbett, who took off his hat, and 
made a low obeisance. 

It was impossible for Cecilia Ossulton to help 
smiling. 

‘^And,” continued Pickersgill, having taken the 
command of this yacht, instead of his lordship, it 
is absolutely necessary that I also take his lord- 
ship’s name. While on board, I am lord B.; and 
allow me to introduce myself under that name — I 
cannot be addressed otherwise. Depend upon it, 
miss Ossulton, that I shall have a most paternal so- 
licitude to make you happy and comfortable.” 

Had Cecilia Ossulton dared to have given vent 
to her real feelings at that time, she would have 
burst into a fit of laughter, it was too ludicrous. 
At the same time the very burlesque reassured her 
still more. She went into the cabin with a heavy 
weight removed from her heart. 

In the mean time, miss Ossulton and Mrs. Las- 
celles remained below, in the greatest anxiety at 
Cecilia’s prolonged stay; they knew not what to 
think, and dared not go on deck. Mrs. Lascelles 
had once determined at all risks to go up; but 
miss Ossulton and Phoabe had screamed, and im- 
plored her so fervently not to leave them, that she 
unwillingly consented to remain. Cecilia’s counte- 
nance, when she entered the cabin, reassured Mrs. 
Lascelles, but not her aunt, who ran to her, crying 
and sobbing, and clinging to her, saying “ What 
have they done to you, my poor, poor Cecilia ?” 

“ Nothing at all aunt,” replied Cecilia ; the cap- 
tain speaks very fairly, and says that he shall re- 


232 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


spect us in every possible way, provided that we 
ooey his orders j but if not — " 

If not — what, Cecilia V’ said miss Ossulton, 
grasping her niece’s arm. 

He will starve us, and not let us go !” ■ 

“ God have mercy on us !” cried miss Ossulton, 
renewing her sobs. 

Cecilia then went to Mrs. Lascelles, and com- 
municated to her, apart, all that had passed. Mrs 
Lascelles agreed with Cecilia, that they were in no 
danger of insult ; and as they talked over the mat- 
ter, they at last begun to laugh 5 there was a novel- 
ty in it, and there was something so ridiculous in 
aJl the gentlemen being turned into smugglers. 
Cecilia was glad that she could not tell her aunt, as 
she wished her to be so frightened, as never to 
have her accompany on board of tlie yacht again j 
and Mrs. Lascelles was too glad to annoy her for 
many various insults received. The matter was, 
therefore, canvassed over very satisfactorily, and 
Mrs. Lascelles felt a natural curiosity to see this 
new lord B. and the second Mr. Ossulton. But 
they had no breakfast, and were feeling very hun- 
gry, now that their alarm was over. They desired 
Phoebe to ask the Steward for some tea or coffee. 
The reply was, that “ breakfast was laid in the cab- 
in, and lord B. trusted that the ladies would come 
to partake of it.” 

“ No, no,” replied Mrs. Lascelles, '' I never can, 
without being introduced to them first.” 

Nor will I go,” replied Cecilia, but I will 
write a note, and we w'ill have our breakfast here.” 
Cecilia wrote a note in pencil as follows : 

Miss Ossulton’s compliments to lord B., and, 
as the ladies feel rather indisposed after the alarm 
of this morning, they trust that his lordship will 
excuse their coming to breakfast 3 but hope to meet 
his lordship at dinner, if not before that time, on 
deck.” 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


233 


The answer was propitious, and the steward 
soon appeared with the breakfast in the ladies’ 
cabin. 

“ Well, Maddox,” said Cecilia, how do you get 
on with your new master V' 

The steward looked to the door to see if it was 
closed, shook his head, and then said with a look 
of despair, “ He has ordered a haunch of venison 
for dinner, miss, and he has twice threatened to 
toss me overboard.” 

“ You must obey him Maddox, or he certainly 
will. These pirates are dreadful felloAvs j be at- 
tentive, and serve *him just as if he was my father.” 

“ Yes, yes, ma’am, 1 will, but our time may come j 
it’s burglary on the high seas, and I’ll go fifty miles 
to see him hanged.” 

“ Steward !” cried Pickersgill, from the cabin. 

“ O, Lord ! he can’t have heard me — d’ye think 
he did, miss ?” 

“ The partitions are very thin, and you spoke 
very loud,” said Mrs. Lascelles j “ at all events, go 
to him quickly.” 

“ Good-by, miss j good-by, ma’am 5 if I shouldn’t 
see you any more,” said Maddox, trembling with 
fear, as he obeyed the awful summons — which was 
to demand a toothpick. 

Miss Ossulton would not touch the breakfast 5 
not so Mrs. Lascelles and Cecilia, who ate very 
heartily. 

“ It’s very dull to be shut up in this cabin,” said 
Mrs. Lascelles 5 “ come Cecilia, let’s go on deck.” 

“ And leave me,” cried miss Ossulton. 

“ There is Phoebe here, aunt j we are going up 
to persuade these pirates to put us all on shore.” 

Mrs. Lascelles and Cecilia put on their bonnets 
and went up. Lbrd B. took off his hat, and beg- 
ged the honor of being introduced to the pretty- 
widow. He handed the ladies to a seat, and then 
commenced conversing upon various subjects. 


£34 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


which,* at the same time, possessed great novelty. 
His lordship talked about France, and described its 
ports 5 told now and then a good anecdote 5 point- 
ed out the different headlands, bays, towns, and 
villages which they were passing rapidly, and al- 
ways had some little story connected with each. 
Before the ladies had been two hours on deck, they 
found themselves, to their infinite surprise, not only 
interested, but in conversation w’ith the captain of 
the smuggler, and more than once they laugh- 
ed outright. But the soidisani lord B. had inspir- 
ed them with confidence 5 they fplly believed that 
what he had told them w'as true, and that he had 
taken possession of the yacht to smuggle his goods, 
to be revenged and to have a laugh. Now none of 
these three offences are capital in the eyes of the fair 
sex j and Jack was a handsome, fine looking fellow, 
of excellent manners, and very agreeable conver- 
sation, at the same time neither he nor his friend 
were in their general deportment or behavior other- 
W'ise than most respectful. 

“ Ladies, as you are not afraid of me, which is a 
greater happiness than I had reason to expect, I 
think you may be amused to witness the fear of 
those who accuse your sex of cowardice. With 
your permission I will send for the cook and stew- 
ard, and inquire about the dinner 

“ I should like to know what there is for dinner,’^ 
observed Mrs. Lascelles, demurely j wouldn’t you 
Cecilia ?” 

Cecilia put her handkerchief to her mouth. 

Tell the steward and the cook both to come afl 
immediately,” cried Pickersgill. 

In a few seconds they both made their appear- 
ance. 

Steward cried Pickersgill, with a loud voice. 

Yes, my lord,” replied Maddox, with his hat in 
his hand. 

What wines have vvni put out for dinner V' 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 235 

“ Champagne, my lord 5 and claret, my lord 5 and 
Madeira and Sherry, my lord.” 

‘‘ No Burgundy, sir V’ 

“ No, my lord 3 there is no Burgundy on board.” 

No Burgundy, sir! do you dare to tell me that ?” 

‘‘ Upon my soul, my lord,” cried Maddox, drop- 
ping on his knees, 'Hhere is no Burgundy on board 
— ask the ladies.” 

Very well, sir 5 you may go.” 

Cook, what have you got for dinner ?” 

“ Sir, a haunch of mutt — of venison, my lord,” 
replied the cook, with his Avhite night-cap in his 
hand. 

“ What else, sirrah !” 

A boiled calf’s head, my lord.” 

“ A boiled calf’s head ? Let it be roasted, or I’ll 
roast you, sir,” cried Pickersgill in an angry tone. 

“ Yes, my lord 3 I’ll roast it.” 

^L\nd what else, sir?” 

“ Maintenon cutlets, my lord.” 

Maintenon cutlets ! 1 hate them — I won’t have 
them, sir. Let them be dressed a V ombre Chi- 
noise ” 

“ I don’t know what that is, my lord.” 

“ I don’t care for that, sirrah 3 if you don’t find 
out by dinner-time, you’re food for fishes — that’s 
all : you may go.” 

The cook walked off WTinging his hands and his 
night-cap as well — for he still held it in his right 
hand — and disappeared down the fore-hatchway. 

1 have done this to pay you a deserved compli- 
ment, ladies 3 you have more courage than the 
other sex.” 

“ Recollect that we have had confidence given 
to us in consequence of your pledging your word, 
my lord.” 

You do me, then, the honor of believing me ?” 

I did not until I saw you,” replied Mrs. Las- 
celles5 'M)ut nov/ I am convinced that you will 
perform your promise.” 


236 


THE THREE CUTTERls. 


You do, indeed, encourage me, madam, to pur- 
sue what is right,'’ said Pickersgill, bowing 5 “for 
your approbation I should be most sorry to lose, 
still more sorry to prove myself unworthy of it.” 

As the reader will observe, every thing was going 
on remarkably well. 


CHAPTER VI. 

THE SMUGGLING YACHT. 

Cecilia returned to the cabin, to ascertain whe- 
ther her aunt was more composed ; but Mrs. Las- 
celles remained on deck. She was much pleased 
with Pickersgill 5 and they continued their conver- 
sation. Pickersgill entered into a defence of his 
conduct to lord B.; and Mrs. Lascelles could not 
but admit the provocation. After a long conversa- 
tion, she hinted at his profession, and how superior 
he appeared to be to such a lawless life. 

“ You may be incredulous, madam,” replied Pick-* 
ersgill, “if I tell you that I have as good a right to 
quarter my arms as lord B. himself ; and that I am 
not under my real name. Smuggling is, at all 
events, no crime j and I infinitely prefer the wild 
life I lead at the head of my men, to being spurned 
by society because I am poor. The greatest crime 
in my country is poverty. I may, if I am fortunate, 
some day resume my name. You may, perhaps, 
meet me, and, if you please, you may expose me.” 

“ That I should not be likely to do,” replied the 
widow 5 “but still I regret to see a person, evident- 
ly intended for better things, employed in so disre 
putable a profession.” 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


237 


** I hardly know, madam, what is and what is not 
disreputable in this conventional world. It is not 
considered disreputable to cringe to the vices of a 
court, or to accept a pension, wrung from the indus- 
try of the nation, in return for base servility. It is 
not considered disreputable to take tithes, intended 
for the service of God, and lavish them away at wa- 
tering-places or elsewhere, seeking pleasure instead 
of doing God service. It is not considered disre- 
putable to take fee after fee to uphold injustice, to 
plead against innocence, to pervert truth, and to 
aid the devil. It is not considered disreputable to 
gamble on the stock exchange or to corrupt the 
honesty of electors by bribes, to doing which the 
penalty attached is equal to that decreed to the of- 
fence of which I am guilty. All these, and much 
more, are not considered disreputable 5 yet by all 
these are the moral bonds of society loosened, while 
in mine we cause no guilt in others — ” 

But still it is a crime.'* 

“ A violation of the revenue laws, and no more. 
Observe, madam, the English government encour- 
age the smuggling of our manufactures to the con- 
tinent, at the same time that they take every step 
to prevent articles being smuggled into this country. 
Now, madam, can that be a crime, when the head 
of a vessel is turned north, which becomes ?io crime 
when she steers the opposite way V’ 

“ There is a stigma attached to it, you must 
allow." 

“ That I grant you, madam 5 and as soon as I can 
quit the profession 1 shall. No captive ever sighed 
more to be released from his chains 5 but 1 will not 
leave it, till I find that I am in a situation not to be 
spurned and neglected by those with whom I have 
a right to associate.” 

At this moment, the steward was seen forward 
making signs to Airs. Lascelles, v.ho excused her- 
self, and went to him. 


238 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


"For the love of God, madam/' said Maddox, 
"as he appears to be friendly with you, do pray 
find out how these cutlets are to be dressed 3 the 
cook is tearing his hair, and we shall never have 
any dinner 5 and then it will all fall upon me, and 
I — shall be tossed overboard." 

Mrs. Lascelles desired poor Maddox, to wait there 
while she obtained the desired information. In a 
few minutes she returned to him. 

" I have found it out. They are first to be boiled 
in vinegar 3 then fried in batter, and served up with 
a sauce of anchovy ahd Malaga ra-isins." 

" First fried in vinegar 3 then boiled in batter, 
and served up with almonds and raisins." 

" No — no !" Mrs. Lascelles repeated the injunc- 
tion to the frightened steward 3 and then returned 
aft. and re-entered into a conversation with Pickers- 
gill, in which, for the first time, Corbett now join- 
ed. Corbett had sense enough to feel, that the 
less he came forward until his superior had estab- 
lished himself in the good graces of the ladies, the 
mere favorable would be the result. 

In the mean time Cecilia had gone down to her 
aunt, who still continued to wail and lament. The 
young lady tried all she cculd to console her, and 
to persuade her that if they v/ere civil and obedient 
they had nothing to fear. 

" Civil and obedient, indeed !" cried miss Ossul- 
ton, "to a fellow who is a smuggler and a pirate. 
I. the sister of lord B. Never! The presumption 
of the wretch !" 

"That is all very well, aunt 5 but recollect, we 
must submit to circumstances. These men insist 
upon our dining with them 3 and we must go, or we 
shall have no dinner." 

" I sit down with a pirate ! Never ! I’ll have no 
dinner — I’ll starve — I’ll die !" 

" But, my dear aunt, it’s the only chance v/e have 
of obtaining our release 3 and if you do not do it, 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


239 


Mrs. Lascelles will think that you wish to remain 
with them.” 

Mrs. Lascelles judges of other people by her- 
self.” 

The captain is certainly a very well-behaved, 
handsome map. . He looks like a nobleman in dis- 
guise. What an odd thing it would be, aunt, if this 
should be all a hoax ?” 

A hoax child 1 ” replied miss Ossulton, sitting 
upon the sofa. 

Cecilia found that she had hit the right nail, as 
the saying is 3 and she brought forward so many ar- 
guments to prove that she thought it was a hoax to 
frighten them, and that the gentleman above was a 
man of consequence, that her aunt began to listen 
to reason, and at last consented to join the dinner- 
party. Mrs. Lascelles now came down below 3 and 
when dinner was announced, they repaired to the 
large cabin, where they found Pickersgill and Cor- 
bett waiting for them. 

Miss Ossulton did not venture to look up, until 
she heard Pickersgill say to Mrs. Lascelles, **' Per- 
haps, madam, you will do me the favor to introduce 
me to that lady, whom I have not had the honor of 
seeing before ?” 

“Certainly, ray lord,” replied Mrs. Lascelles 3 
“'miss Ossulton, the aunt of this young lady.” 

Mrs -Lascellos purposely did not introduce /lis 
lord'hip in return, that she might mystify the old 
spinster. 

' “ I feel highly honored in finding myself in the 
company of miss Ossulton,” said Pickersgill. “La- 
dio.s, wc wait but for you to sit down. Ossulton, 
take tJie head of the table and serve the soup.” 

nIisK Orsulton was astonished 3 slie looked at the 
sniu g ders, and perceived two well-dressed gentle- 
iirini v m'.n, one of whom was apparently a lord, 
and tl;e other liaving the same lamily name. 

“ it ia';.:t l,c all a hoax,” thought she 3 and .®I;e 
\.'; V pu'., 'Iv tock to her soup. 


240 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


The dinner passed off very pleasantly ; Pickers- 
gill w’as agreeable, Corbett Tunny, and miss Ossul- 
ton so far recovered herself as to drink wine with 
his lordship, and to ask Corbett what branch of their 
family he belonged to, 

1 presume it’s the Irish branch,” said Mrs. Las- 
celles, prompting him. 

“ Exactly, madam,” replied Corbett. 

Have you ever been to Torquay, ladies ?” in- 
quired Pickersgill. 

“ jN[o,my lord,” answered Mrs. Lasceiles. 

“ Wc shall anchor there in the course of an hour, 
and probably remain there till to-morrow'. Stew- 
ard, bring coffee. Tell the cook these cutlets were 
remarkably well dressed.” 

'J'he ladies retired to the cabin. Miss Ossulton 
was now convinced that it was all a hoax ; but, said, 
she, I shall tell lord B. my opinion of their prac- 
tical jokes when he returns. What is his lordship's 
name who is on board ?” 

“ He won’t tell us,” replied Mrs. Lasceiles, “but 
I think I know it ; it is lord Blarney.” 

“ Lord Blaney you mean, I presume,” said miss 
Ossulton ; hov/ever, the thing is carried too far. 
Cecilia, we will go on shore at Torquay, and wait 
till the yacht returns with lord B. I don’t like these 
jokes ) they may do very well for widows and peo- 
ple of no rank.” 

Now, IMrs, Lasceiles was sorry to find miss Os- 
sulton so much at her ease. She owed her no little 
spite, and ■wished for revenge. I/adies M'ill go very 
far to obtain this. How far Mrs. Lasceiles would 
have gone I will not pretend to say ; but tins is 
certain, that the last innuendo of miss Ossulton very 
much added to her determination. She took her 
bonnet and went on deck, at once told Pickersgill 
that he could not please I’.er or (.'ecilia more than 
by frightening miss Ossulton, v.l o, under tl;e idea 
that if was all a hra\', I'acl qu I,- < ■croi! her spir- 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


241 


its; talked of her pride and ill-nature, and wished 
her to receive a useful lesson. Thus, to follow up 
her revenge, did Mrs. Lascelles commit herself 
60 far as to be confidential with the smuggler in 
return. 

^'Mrs. Lascelles, I shall be able to obey you, 
and, at the same time, to combine business with 
pleasure.” 

After a short conversation, the yacht dropped her 
anchor at Torquay. It was then about two hours 
before sunset. As soon as the sails were furled, 
one or two gentlemen, who resided there, came on 
board to pay their respects to lord B.; and, as Pick- 
ersgill had found out from Cecilia that her fathel 
was acquainted with no one there, he received 
them in person j asked them down in the cabin ; 
called for wine, and desired them to send their boat 
away, as his own was going on shore. The smug- 
glers took great care that the steward, cook, and 
lady’s maid, should have no communication with 
the guests 5 one of them, by Corbett’s direction, 
being a sentinel over each individual. The gentle- 
men remained about half an hour on board, during 
which Corbett and the smugglers had filled the 
portmanteaus found in the cabin with the lace, and 
they were put in the boat. Corbett then landed 
the gentlemen in the same boat, and went up to the 
hotel, the smugglers following him with the port- 
manteaus, without any suspicion or interruption. 
As soon as he was there, he ordered post-horses, 
and set oft’, for a town close by, where he had cor- 
respondents j and thus the major part of the cargo 
was secured. Corbett then returned in the night, 
bringing with him people to receive the goods 5 and 
the smugglers landed the silks, teas, &c. with the 
same good fortune. Every thing was out of the 
yacht except a portion of the lace, which the port- 
manteaus would not hold. Pickersgill might easily 
have sent this on shore ; but to please Mrs. Las- 
cellps, he arranged otherwise. 16 


242 THE THREE CUTTERS. 

The next morning, about an hour after breakfast 
was finished, Mrs. Lascelles entered the cabin pre- 
tending to be in the greatest consternation, and fell 
on the sofa, as if she were going to faint. 

‘‘ Good heavens ! what is the matter V’ exclaimed 
Cecilia, who knew very well what was coming. 

“ O, the wretch ! he has made such proposals.'' 

^ Proposals ! what proposals ? what ! lord Bla- 
' ney ?" cried miss Ossulton. 

he’s no lordj he's a villain and a smuggler ; 
and he insists that we shall both fill our pockets 
full of lace, and go on shore with him.” 

'' Mercy on me ! then it is no hoax after all j 
and I've been sitting down to dinner with a smug- 
gler!” 

“ Sitting down, madam ! — if it were to be no 
more than that — ^but we are to take his arm up to 
the hotel. O dear ! Cecilia, T am ordered on deck, 
pray come with me.” 

Miss Ossulton rolled on the sofa, and rang for 
Phcebe 5 she was in a state of great alarm. 

A knock at the door. 

Come in,” said miss Ossulton, thinking it was 
Phoebe ; when Pickersgill made his appearance. 

What do you want, sir? go out, sir! go out di- 
rectly, or I’ll scream.” 

‘‘ It is no use screaming, madam ; recollect that 
all on board are at my service. You will oblige 
me by listening to me, miss Ossulton. I am, as 
you know, a smuggler, and I must send this lace on 
shore. You will oblige me by putting it into your 
pockets, or about your person, and prepare to go 
on shore with me. As soon as we arrive at the ho- 
tel, you will deliver it to me, and I then shall recon- 
duct you on board of the yacht. You are not the 
first lady who has gone on shore with contraband ar- 
ticles about her person. 

“Me, sir, go on shore in that way? — no, sir, 
never ! what will the world say ? the hon. miss 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 24.^ 

Ossulton walking with a smuggler! No, sir, nev- 
er i’’ 

Yes madam, walking arm-and-arm with a smug- 
gler : I shall have you on one arm, and Mrs. Las- 
celles on the other j and I would advise you to take 
it very quietly, for in the first place, it will be you 
who smuggle, as the goods will be found on your 
person, and you will certainly be put in prison, for, 
at the least appearance of insubordination, we run 
and inform against you ; and, further, your neice 
will remain on board as a hostage for your good be- 
havior, and if you have any regard for her liberty, 
you will consent immediately.’’ 

Pickersgill left the cabin, and shortly afterwards 
Cecilia and Airs. Lascelles entered, apparently 
much distressed. They had been informed of all, 
and Airs. Lascelles declared, that, for her part, 
sooner than leave her poor Cecilia to the mercy of 
such people, she had made up her mind to submit 
to the smuggler’s demands. Cecilia also begged so 
earnestly, that miss Ossulton, who had no idea that 
it was a trick, with much sobbing and blubbering, 
consented. 

When all was ready,Cecilia left the cabin ; Pick- 
ersgill came down, handed up the two ladies, who 
had not exchanged a word with each other during 
Cecilia’s absence ; the boat was ready alongside, 
they went in, and pulled on shore. Every thing 
succeeded to the smuggler’s satisfaction. Aliss Os- 
sulton, frightened out of her wits, took his arm j 
and, with Mrs. Lascelles on the other, they went up 
o the hotel, followed by four of his boat’s crew. 
As soon as they were shown into a room, (Jorbett, 
who was already on shore, asked for lord B., and 
joined them. The ladies retired to another apart- 
ment, divested themselves of their contraband 
goods, and, after calling for some sandwiches and 
wine, Pickersgill waited an hour, and then returned 
on board. Mrs. Lascelles was triumphant j and 


2-14 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


she rewarded her new ally, the smuggler, with one 
of her sweetest smiles. Community of interest 
will sometimes make strange friendships. 


CHAPTER VIL 

CONCLUSION. 

We must now return to the other parties who 
have assisted in the acts of this little drama. Lord 
B., after paddling, and paddling, the men relieving 
each other in order to make head against the wind, 
which was off shore, arrived about midnight at a 
small town in West Bay, from whence he took a 
chaise on to Porsmouth, taking it for granted that 
his yacht would arrive as soon as, if not before, 
himself, little imagining that it was in possession of 
the smugglers. There he remained three or four 
days, when, becoming impatient, he applied to one 
of his friends who had a yacht at Cowes, and sailed 
with him to look after his own. 

We left the Happy-go-lucky cliased by tlie reve- 
nue cutter. At first the smuggler had the advant- 
age before the wind ; but, by degrees, the wind 
went round with the sun, and brought the revenue 
cutter to leeward j it was then a chase on a wind, 
and the revenue cutter came fast up with her. 

Morrison, perceiving that he had no chance of 
escape, let run the ankers of brandy, that he might 
not be condemned ; but still he was in an awkward 
situation, as he had more men on board than allow- 
ed by act of parliament. He therefore stood on, 
notwithstanding the shot of the cutter went over 
and over him, hoping that a fog or night might en- 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


245 


able him to escape 5 but he had no such good for- 
tune, — one of the shot carried away the head of his 
mast, and tlie Happy-go-lucky’s luck was all over. 
He was boarded, and taken possession of; he as- 
serted that the extra men were only passengers ; 
but, in the first place, they were dressed in sea- 
naen’s clothes ; and, in the second, as soon as the 
boat was aboard of her, Appleboy had gone down 
to his gin-toddy, and was not to be disturbed. The 
gentlemen smugglers therefore passed an uncomfor- 
table night ; and the cutter going to Portland by 
daylight, before Appleboy was out of bed, they 
were taken on shore to the magistrate. Hautaine 
explained the whole affair, and they were immedi- 
ately released and treated with respect ; but they 
were not permitted to depart until they were bound 
over to appear against the smugglers, and prove the 
brandy having been on board. They then set off 
for Portsmouth in the seamen’s clothes, having had 
quite enough yachting for that season, Mr. Ossul- 
ton declaring that he only wanted to get his luggage, 
and then he would take care how he put himself 
again in the way of the shot of a revenue cruiser, 
or of sleeping a night on her decks. 

In the mean time, Morrison and his men were 
locked up in the jail, the old man, as the key was 
turned on him, exclaiming, as he raised his foot in 
vexation, “ That cursed blue pigeon 

We will now return to the yacht. 

About an hour after Pickersgill had come on 
board, Corbett had made all his arrangements, and 
followed him. It was not advisable to remain at 
Torquay any longer, through fear of discovery ; he, 
therefore, weighed the anchor before dinner, and 
made sail. 

What do you intend to do now, my lord V’ said 
Mrs. Lascelles. 

I intend to run down to Cowes, anchor the 
yacht in the night; and an hour before daylight have 


246 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


you in my boat witli all my men. I will take care 
that you are in perfect safety, depend upon it, even 
if I run a risk. I should, indeed, be miserable, if, 
through my wild freaks,any accident should happen 
to Mrs. Lascelles or xniss Ossulton.'’ 

I am very anxious about my father,’’ observed 
Cecilia. trust that you will keep your promise.” 

I always have hitherto, miss Ossultonj have I 
not ?” 

'^Ours is but a short and strange acquaintance.’’ 

I grant it ; but it will serve for you to talk 
about long after. I shall disappear as suddenly as I 
have come — ^you will neither of you, in all proba- 
bility, ever see me again.” 

The dinner was announced, and they sat down to 
table as before 5 but the elderly spinster refused to 
make her appearance 5 and Mrs. Lascelles and Ce- 
cilia, who thought she had been frightened enough, 
did not attempt to force her. Pickersgill immedi- 
ately yielded to these remonstrances, and, from that 
time, she remained undisturbed in the ladies cabin, 
meditating over the indignity of having sat down 
to table, having drank wine, and been obliged to 
walk on shore, taking the arm of a smuggler and ap- 
pear in such a humiliating situation. 

The wind was light, and they made but little 
progress, and were not abreast of Portland till the 
second day, when another yacht appeared in sight, 
and the two vessels slowly neared until in the af- 
ternoon they were within four miles of each other. 
It then fell a dead calm — signals were thrown out 
by the other yacht, but could not be distinguished, 
and, for the last time, they sat down to dinner. — 
Three days’ companionship on board of a vessel, 
cooped up together, and having no one else to con- 
verse witn, will produce intimacy 5 and Pickersgill 
was a young man of so much originality and infor- 
mation, that he was listened to with pleasure. He 
never attempted to advance beyond the line of 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


247 


strict decorum and politeness 3 and his companion 
was equally unpresuming. Situated as they were, and 
feeling what must have been the case had they 
fallen into other hands, both Cecilia and Mrs. Las- 
celles felt some degree of gratitude towards him 3 
and, although anxious to be relieved from so strange 
a position, they had gradually acquired a perfect 
confidence in him, and this had produced a degree 
of familiarity, on their parts, although never ven- 
tured upon by the smuggler. As Corbett was at 
the table, one of tlie men came down and made a 
sign. Corbett shortly after quitted the table, and 
went on deck. “ I wish, my lord, you would come 
up a moment,and see if you can make this flag out,’^ 
said Corbett, giving a significant nod to Pickersgill. 

Excuse me, ladies, one moment,’^ said Pickers- 
gill, who went on deck. 

“ It is the boat of the yacht coming on board, 
said Corbett 3 and lord B. is in the stem-sheets 
with the gentleman who was with him.’’ 

“ And how many men in the boat 1 — let me see 
— only four. Well, let his lordship and his friend 
come 3 when they are on the deck, have the men 
ready in case of accident 3 but if you can manage 
to tell the boat’s crew that they are to go on board 
again, and get rid of them that way, so much the 
better. Arrange this with Adams, and then come 
down again — his lordship must see us all at din- 
ner.” 

Pickersgill then descended, and Corbett had 
hardly time to give his directions and to resume his 
seat, before his lordship and Mr. Stewart pulled up 
alongside and jumped on deck. There was no 
one to receive them but the seamen, and those 
whom they did not know. They looked around in 
amazement 3 at last his lordship said to Adams who 
stood forward, 

“ What men are you 1 ” 

“ Belong to the yacht, ye’r honor.” 


TilE TiIBKC CLTTERS. 


e4S 

Lord B. heard laujliin;^ in the cahin : he would 
not wait to interrogate the men ; lie walked afl, 
followed by Mr. Stewart, looked down the skylight, 
and perceived his daughter and Mrs. Lascclleswith, 
as he supposed, Hautaine and Ossulton. 

Pickersgill had heard the boat rub the side, and 
the sound of the feet on the deck, and he talked the 
more loudly that the ladies might be caught by lord 
Ih as they were. He heard their feet at the sky- 
light, and knew that they could hear what passea j 
and at that moment he proposed to the ladies that, 
as this \vas their last meeting at table, they should 
all take a glass of champagne to drink to their 
happy meeting with lord B.” This Avas a toast 
whicn they did not refuse. Maddox poured out the 
Avine,and they were all bowing to each other, when 
his lordsliip, who had come down the ladder,walked 
into the cabin, followed by Mr. Stewart. 

Cecilia perceived her father ; the champagne- 
glass dropped from her hand — she flew into his 
arms, and burst into tears. 

AVho Avould not be a father, Mrs. Lascelles V' 
said rickersgill, quietly seating himself, after hav- 
ing first risen to receive lord B. 

•• And pray, whom may I have the honor of find- 
ing established here V’ said lord B. in an angry tone, 
speaking over his daughter’s head, who still lay in 
his arms. “ By heavens, yes 1 — Stewart, it is "the 
.smuggling captain dressed out.” 

“ Even so, my lord,” replied Pickersgill. You 
abandoned your yacht to capture me 5 you left these 
ladies in a vessel crippled for want of men ; they 
might have been lost. I have returned good for 
evil by coming on board Avith my oAvn people, and 
taking charge of them. Tins night I expected to 
have anchored your vessel in CoAves, and have left 
them in safety.” 

“ By the ,” cried SteAvart. 

“ Stop, sir, if you please !” cried Pickersgill j 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


249 


“ recollect you have once already attacked one who 
never offended. Oblige me by refraining from in- 
temperate language 3 for I tell you I will not put 
up with it. Recollect, sir, that I have refrained 
from that, and also from taking advantage of you 
when you were in my power. Recollect, sir, also, 
that the yacht is still in possession of the smugglers, 
and that you are in no condition to insult with im- 
punity. My lord allow me to observe, that we men 
are too hot of temperament to argue, or listen 
coolly. With your permission, your friend, anri 
my friend, and I, will repair on deck,leaving you to 
hear from your daughter and that lady all that has 
passed. After that, my lord, I shall be most happy 
to hear any thing which your lordship may please to 
say.” 

Upon my word — commenced Mr. Stewart, 

“ Mr. Stewart.” interrupted Cecilia Ossulton, “ I 
request your silence 5 nay, more, if ever we are 
again to sail in the same vessel together, I insist 
upon it.” 

•' Your lordship will oblige me by enforcing miss 
Ossulton’s request,” said Mrs. Lascelles. 

Mr. Stewart was dumbfounded, no wonder, to find 
the ladies siding with the smuggler. 

I am obliged to you, ladies, for your interfer- 
ence,” said Pickersgill ; '‘for although I have the 
means of enforcing conditions, I should be sorry 
to avail myself of them. I wait for his lordship’s 
reply.” 

Lord B. was very much surprised. He wislied 
for an explanation 5 he bowed with hauteur. Eve- 
ry body appeared to be in a false position 5 even 
he, lord B., somehow or another, had bowed to a 
smuggler. 

Pickersgill and Stewart went on deck, walking 
up and down, crossing each other without speaking, 
but reminding you of two dogs who both are anx- 
ious to fight, but have been restrained by the voice 


250 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


of their masters. Corbett followed, and talked in 
a low tone to Pickersgill 5 Stewart went over to 
leeward to see if the boat was still alongside, but 
it had long before returned to the yacht. Miss Os- 
sulton had heard her brother's voice, but did not 
come out of the after-cabin 5 she wished to be mag- 
nificent 5 and, at the same time, she was not sure 
whether all was right, Phoebe having informed her 
that there was nobody with her brother and Mr. 
Stewart, and that the smugglers still had the com- 
mand of the vessel. After a w'hile, Pickersgill and 
Corbett went down forward, and returned dressed 
in the smugglers' clothes, when they resumed their 
walk on the deck. 

In the mean time, it was dark ; the cutter flew 
along the coast 5 and the Needles’ light were on 
the larboard bow. The conversation between Ce- 
cilia, Mrs. Lascelles, and her father, was long. 
When all had been detailed, and the conduct of 
Pickersgill duly represented, lord B. acknowledged 
that, by attacking the smuggler, he had lain himself 
open to retaliation j that Pickersgill had shown a 
great deal of forbearance in every instance ; and, 
after all, had he not gone on board the yacht, she 
might have been lost with only three seamen on 
board. He was amused with the smuggling and 
the fright of his sister ; still more, with the gentle- 
men being sent to Cherbourg 5 and much consoled 
that he was not the only one to be laughed at. He 
was also much pleased with Pickersgill's intention 
of leaving the yacht safe in Cowes harbor, his re- 
spect to the property on board, and his conduct to 
the ladies. On the whole, he felt grateful to Pick- 
ersgill 5 and where there is gratitude, there is always 
good will. 

^'But who can he be 1 ” said Mrs. Lascelles, his 
name he acknowledges not to be Pickersgill j and 
he told me ccnlidentiallv that he was of good 
family." 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 25 

Confidentially ! my dear Mrs. Lascelles said 
lord B. 

“ Oh, yes ! we are both his confidants. Are we 
not, Cecilia V’ 

“ Upon my honor, Mrs. Lascelles, this smuggler 
appears to have made an impression which many 
have attempted in vain.’' 

Mrs. Lascelles did not reply to that remark, but 
said, ^^jN'ow, my lord, you must decide j and I trust 
you will, to oblige us — treat him as he has treated 
us, with the greatest respect and kindness.” 

Why should you suppose otherwise?” replied 
lord B. ; ‘‘ it is not only my wish, but my interest 
so to do. He may take us over to France to-night, 
or anywhere else. Has he not possessioir of the 
vessel ?” 

Yes,” replied Cecilia : “ but we flatter ourselves 
that we have the command. Shall we call him 
down, papa ?” 

Ring for Maddox. Maddox, tell Mr. Pickers- 
gill, who is on deck, that I wish to speak with him, 
and shall be obliged by his stepping down into the 

^WVho, my lord ? What! Him?” 

“ Yes, him,” replied Cecilia, laughing. 

Must 1 call him my lord now, miss ?” 

You may do as you please, Maddox ; but recol- 
lect, he still is in possession of the vessel,” replied 
Cecilia. 

“ Then with your lordship’s permission I will j 
it’s the safest way.” 

The smuggler entered the cabin ; the ladies start- 
ed as he appeared in his rough costume, with his 
throat open, and his loose black handkerchief. He 
was the beau-ideal of a handsome sailor. 

“ Y’^our lordship wishes to communicate with me.” 

Mr. Pickersgill, I feel that you have had cause 
of enmity against me, and that you have behaved 
W'ith forbearance. I thank you for your considerate 


252 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


treatment of the ladies 5 and I assure you, that I 
feel no resentment for what has passed.’' 

“ My lord, 1 am quite satisfied wi.h what you 
have said 3 and I only hope that in future, you will 
not interfere with a poor smuggler, who may be 
striving, by a life of danger and privation, to pro- 
cure subsistence for himself, .and, perhaps, his fam- 
ily. 1 stated to these ladies my intention of an- 
clioring the yacht this night at Cowes, and leaving 
her as soon as she w'as in safety. Your unexpected 
presence will only make this difl’erence, which is, 
that 1 must previously obtain your lordship’s assur- 
ance that those with you will allow me and my 
men to quit her without molestation, after we have 
performed this service.” 

“ 1 pledge you my word, Mr. Pickersgill, and I 
thank you into the bargain. I trust you will allow 
me to offer some remuneration.” 

“ Most^ertainly not, my lord.” 

“ At all events, Mr. Pickersgill, if, at any other 
time, 1 can be of service, you may command me.” 

Pickersgill made no reply. 

Surely, Mr. Pickersgill, — ” 

“ Pickersgill ! how 1 hate that name !” said the 
smuggler, musing. I beg your lordship’s pardon-— 
if I may require your assistance for any of my un- 
fortunate companions — ” 

^'JNot for yourself, Mr. Pickersgill ?” said Mrs. 
Lascelies. 

Madam, I smuggle no more.” 

“ For the pleasure I feel in hearing that resolu- 
tion, Mr. Pickersgill,” said Cecilia, ‘‘ take my hand, 
and thanks.” 

“And mine,” said Mrs. Lascelies, half crying. 

“And mine too,” said lord B., rising up. 

Pickersgill passed the back of his hand across his 
eyes, turned round, and left the cabin. 

“ I’m so happy !” said Mrs. Lascelies, bursting 
into tears. 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 253 

He’s a magnificent fellow,” observed lord B. 
“Come, let us all go on deck.” 

“ You have not seen my aunt, papa,” 

“ True j I’ll go in to her, and then follow you.” 

The ladies went upon deck. Cecilia entered 
into conversation with Mr. Stewart, giving him a 
narrative of what had happened. Mrs. Lascelles 
sat abaft at the taffrail, with her pretty hand sup- 
porting her cheek, looking very much a la Juliette. 

“Mrs. Lascelles,” said Pickersgill, “before we 
part, allow me to observe, that it is yoti who have 
induced me to give up my profession — ” 

“ Why me, Mr. Pickersgill ?” 

“ You said that you did not like it.” 

Mrs. Lascelles felt the force of the compliment. 

“ You said, just now, that you hated the name of 
Pickersgill : why do you call yourself so ?” 

“ It was my smuggling name, Mrs. Lascelles.” 

“ And now, that you have left off’ smuggling, pray 
what may be the the name we are to call you by V’ 

“ 1 cannot resume it, till I have not only left this 
vessel, but shaken hands with, and bid farewell to, 
my companions 3 and by that time, Mrs. Lascelles, 
I shall be away from you.” 

“ But I’ve a great curiosity to know it, and a 
lady’s curiosity must be gratified. You must call 
upon me some day and tell me. Here is my ad- 
dress.” 

Pickersgill received the card with a low bow 5 
and lord B. coming on deck, Mrs. Lascelles hast- 
ened to meet him. 

The vessel was now passing the bridge at the 
Needles, and the smuggler piloted her on. As soon 
as they were clear and well inside, the whole party 
went down into the cabin, lord B. requesting Pick- 
ersgill and Corbett to join him in a parting glass. 
Mr. Stewart, who had received the account of what 
had passed I’rom Cecilia, was very attentive to Pick- 
ersgill, and took an opportunity of saying that he 


254 


THE THREE CUTTERS. 


•was sorry that he had said or done any thing to an- 
noy him. Every one recovered his spirits j and all 
was good humor and mirth, because miss Ossulton 
adhered to her resolution of not quitting the cabin 
till she could quit the yacht. At ten o’clock the 
yacht was anchored. Fickersgill took his leave of 
Ihe honorable company, and went in his boat with 
his men 5 and lord B. was again in possession of 
his vessel, although he had not a ship’s company. 
Maddox recovered his usual tone 5 and the cook 
flourished his knife, swearing that he should like to 
see the smuggler who would again order him to 
dress cutlets a V ombre Chinoise. 

The yacht had remained three days at Cow'es, 
when lord B. received a letter from Fickersgill. 
stating that the men of his vessel had been captur- 
ed, and w'ould be condemned, in consequence of 
their having the gentlemen on board, who were 
bound to appear against them, to prove that they 
had sunk the brandy. Ijord B. paid all the recog- 
nisances, and the men were liberated for want of 
evidence. 

It was about two years after this that Cecilia Os- 
sulton, w'ho was sitting at her work-table in deep 
mourning for her aunt, was presented with a letter 
by the butler. It w'as from her friend Mrs. Las- 
celles, informing her that she was married again to 
a Mr. Davenant, and intended to pay her a short 
visit on her way to the continent. Mr. and Mrs. 
Davenant arrived the next day 5 and w'hen the latter 
introduced her husband, she said to miss Ossulton, 
'• Look, Cecilia dear, and tell me if you have ever 
seen Davenant before.” 

Cecilia looked earnestly. “ I have, indeed,” cried 
she at last, e.vtending her hand with warmth j “and 
happy am I to meet with him again.” 

For in Mr. Davenant she recognised her old ac- 
quaintance, the captain of the Happy-go-lucky. Jack 
Fickersgill, the smuggler. 


MOONSHINE 


Those who have visited the British West India 

E cssessions must have often been amused with the 
umor and cunning which occasionally appear in a 
negro more endowed than the generality of his 
race, particularly when the master also happens to 
be a humorist. The swarthy servitor seems to re- 
flect his patron’s absurdities 5 and having thor- 
oughly studied his character, ascertains how far he 
can venture to take liberties without fear of pun- 
ishment. 

One of these strange specimens 1 once met with 
in a negro called Moonshine, belonging to a person 
equally strange in his own way, who had, for many 
years, held the situation of harbor-master at Port 
Koyal, but had then retired on a pension, and occu- 
pied a small house at Ryde, in the Isle of Wight. 
His name was Cockle, but he had long been ad- 
dressed as captain Cockle, and this brevet rank he 
retained until the day of his death. In person, he 
was very large and fat, — not unlike a cockle in 
shape ; so round were his proportions, and so un- 
wieldy, that it appeared much easier to roll him 
along from one place to another, than that he should 
walk. Indeed, locomotion was not to his taste ; he 
seldom went much fartlier than round the small 
patch of garden which was in front of his house, 
and in which he had some pinks, and carnations, 
and chrysanthemums, of which he was not a little 
proud. His head was quite bald, smooth, and 
shining white 5 his face partook more of a roseate 
tint, increasing in depth till it settled into an in- 
tense red at the tip of his nose. Cockle had for- 
merly been a master of a merchant vessel, and 


266 


AKX)jNSHINE. 


from his residence in a warm climate had contract- 
ed a habit of potation, which became confirmed 
during the long period of his holding his situation 
at Port Koyal. He had purchased Moonshine for 
three hundred dollars, when he was about seven 
years old, and upon his return to England, had ta- 
ken him with him. 

Moonshine was very much attached to his mas- 
ter, very much attached to having his own way, and 
was, farther, very much attached to his master's 
grog bottle. 

I’he first attachment was a virtue, the second hu- 
man nature, and the third, in the opinion of old 
Cockle, a crime of serious magnitude. I very often 
called upon captain Cockle, for he had a quaint hu- 
mor about him that amused j and, as he seldom 
went out, he was always glad to see any of his 
friends. Another reason was, that I seldom went 
to the house without finding some entertainment in 
the continual sparring between the master and the 
man. I was at that time employed in the preven- 
tive service, and my station was about four miles 
from the residence of Cockle. One morning I 
stalked in, and found him, as usual, in his little par- 
lor on the ground floor. 

“ Well, Cockle, my boy, how are you 
Why, to tell you the truth. Bob, I am all 
wrong. I am on the stool of repentance ; to wit, 
on this easy chair, doing penance, as you perceive, 
in a pair of duck trousers. Last night I was half 
seas over, and tolerably happy 5 this morning, 1 am 
high and dry, and tolerably miserable. Carried 
more sail than ballast last night, and lost my head ; 
this morning, I’ve found it again, with a pig of bal- 
last in it, I believe. All owing to my good nature.” 

“ How is that Cockle ?” 

“ Why, that Jack Piper was here last night j and 
rather than he should drink all the grog and not find 
his way home, T drank some myself : he’d been in 


MOONSHINE. 


257 


a bad way if I had not, poor fellow ! — and now, you 
see, Pm suffering all from good nature. ' Easiness 
of disposition has been my ruin, and has rounded 
me into this ball, by wearing away all my sharp 
edges. Bob.’' 

“■ It certainly was very considerate and very kind 
of you. Cockle, especially when we know how 
much you must have acted at variance with your 
inclinations.” 

“ Yes, Bob, yes, I am the milk punch of human 
kindness ; I often cry — when the chimney smokes ; 
and sometimes — when I laugh too much. All the 
women at Port Royal used to say that I was a man 
of feeling. You see, I not only give my money as 
others will do, but, as last night, I even give my 
head to assist a fellow creature. I could, however, 
dispense with it for an hour or two this morning.” 

‘‘ Nay, don’t say that 5 for although you might 
dispense with the upper part, you could not well 
get on without your mouth, Cockle.” 

Very true, Bob 5 a chap without a mouth would 
be like a ship without a companion hatch ; — talk- 
ing about that, the combings of my mouth are rath- 
er dry : what do you say, Bob, shall we call Moon- 
shine ?” 

'' Why. it’s rather broad daylight for Moon- 
shine ?” 

He’s but an eclipse — a total eclipse, I may say. 
I’he fact is, my head is so heavy, that it rolls about 
on my shoulders 5 and I must have a stiffner down 
my throat to prop it up. So Moonshine shine out, 
you black-faced rascal !” 

The negro was outside, cleaning his knives j he 
answered, but continued at his work. 

How me shine, massa Cockle, when you neber 
gib me shiner ?” 

No j but I’ll give you a shinner on your lower 
limb, that shall make you feel planet-struck, if you 
don’t show vour ugly face,” replied Cockle. 

■ 17 


258 


MOONSHINE. 


“ Massa Cockle, you full of dictionary dis morn- 
ing.'’ 

“ Come here, sir !" 

Why you so parsonal dis morning, sar ?" repli- 
ed Moonshine, rubbing away at the knife-board : 

my face shine no more dan your white skull wid- 
out hair.’' 

“ 1 pulled one out, you scoundrel, every time 
YOU stole my grog, and now they are all gone. 
Hairs ! what should 1 do with heirs when I have 
nothing to leave continued Cockle, addressing 
me ; “ hairs are like rats, that quit a ship as soon as 
she gets old. Now’, Bob, I wmnder how long that 
rascal will make us wait. I brought him home, and 
gave him his freedom, — but give an inch and he 
takes an ell. Moonshine, I begin to feel angry, — 
the tip of my nose is red .already.” 

Come directly, massa Cockle.” 

IVIoonshine gave two more rubs on the board, and 
then made his appearance. 

“ You call me, sa,r ?” 

\\ hat’s the use of calling you, you black ras- 
cal ?” 

I' No, sar, dat not fair : you s<ay to me. Moon- 
shine, always do one ting first, — so I ’bey and fin- 
ish knives, — dat ting done, I come and ’bey next or- 
der.” 

“ Well, bring some cold water and some tum- 
blers.” 

Moonsliine soon appeared witli the articles, and 
then walked out of the room, grinning at me. 

Moonshine, wliere are you going, you thief? — 
when did you ever see me drink cold water, or of- 
fer it to my friends ?” 

'‘Neber see you drink it but once, and den you 
and tink it gin ; but you very often gib noth- 
ing but water to your friends, inissa Cockle.” 

"When, you scoundrel ?’’ 

'' ^Yhy, very often you rav cl't water quite strong 
enough for me.” 


MOONSHINE. 259 

“ That's because 1 love you, Moonshine. Grog 
IS a sad enemy to us." 

“ Massa Cockle real fine Christian, — he lub him 
enemy,” interrupted Moonshine, looking at me. 

At all events, I'm not ashamed to look mine en- 
emy in the face, — so hand us out the bottle.” 

Moonshine put tlie bottle on the table. 

“Now, liob,' said Cockle, “what d'ye say to a 
seven bell-er ? Why hallo ! — what’s become of all 
the grog?” 

“All (Trank up last night, massa Cockle,” replied 
Aloonshine. 

“Now, you ebony thief. I’ll swear that there was 
a half a bottle left when 1 took my last glass} for 
1 held the bottle up to the candle to ascertain the 
ullage.” 

“ When you go up tairs, massa Cockle, so help 
me Gad 1 not one drop left in de bottle.” 

“ Will you take your oath, Moonsliine, that you 
did not drink any last night?” 

“No, massa Cockle, because I gentleman, and 
neber tell lie 5 me drink because you gib it tome.” 

“Then 1 must have been drunk indeed. Now, 
tell me, how did 1 give it to you ? — tell me every 
word that passed.” 

“ Yes, massa Cockle, me make you recollect all 
about it. When massa Piper go away, you look at 
bottle, and den you say, ‘ 'Pore 1 go up to bed, I 
take one more glass for coming up 5 ’ den 1 say, 
‘ 'Pose you do, you neber be able to go up Den 
you say. Moonshine, you good fellow, (you always 
call me good lellow when you want me,) you must 
help me.' You drink you grog' — ^you fall backin de 
ch^ir, and you shut firsi one eye and den you shut 
de Oder. 1 see more grog on de table 5 so I take 
up de bottle, and I say, ‘ Massa Cockle, you go up 
tairs?' and you say, ^ Yes, yes, — directly.' Den 1 
hold de bottle up, and I say to you. “ Massa, shall I 
help you ?’ and you say, ^ Yes, you ii'ust help me.’ 


260 MOONSHINE. 

So den I take one glass of grog, 'cause you tell me 
to help you." 

“ I didn’t tell you to help yourself, though, you 
scoundrel !’’ 

“ Yes, massa, when you tell me to help you Avith 
de bottle, I ’bey order, and help myself. Den, sar, 
I waits little more, and I say, 'Massa, now you go 
up tairs?’ and you start up, and you wake, and you 
say, ' Yes, yes y and den 1 hold up and I show you 
bottle again, and I say, ' Shall I help you, massa V 
and den you say, ' Yes.’ So I ’bey order again, and 
take one more glass. Den you open mouth and 
snore — so I look again, and I see one littel glass 
more in bottle, and I call you, ' Massa Cockle, mas 
sa Cockle 1’ and you say, ‘ High — high !’ and den you 
head fall on you chest, and you go to sleep again , 
so den I call again, and 1 say, ‘ Massa Cockle, here 
one lilly more drop, shall 1 drink it V and you nod 
you head on you bosom and say noting — so I not 
quite sure, and I say again, ‘Massa Cockle, shall I 
finish this lilly drop V and you nod you head once 
more. Den 1 say, ‘All right,’ and I say, ‘ You very 
good belt, massa Cockle I’ and I finish de bottle 
Now, massa, you ab de whole tory, and it all really 
for true.’’ 

I perceived that Cockle was quite as much amus- 
ed at this account of Moonshine’s as I was myself 
but he put on a bluff look. 

“ So, sir, it appears that you took advantage of 
my helpless situation to help yourself.’’ 

“ Massa Cockle, just now you tell massa Farran 
dat you drink so much, all for good nature to mas- 
sa Piper — I do same all for good nature.’’ 

“ Well, Mr. Moonshine, I must have some grog,’’ 
replied Cockle, “and as you helped yourself last 
night, now you must help me, — get it how you can ; 
I give you just ton minutes — ’’ 

“ ’Pose you gib me ten shillings, sar," interrup- 
ted Moonshine, “ dat better." 


MOONSHINE. 


261 


Cash is all gone. I hav’nt a shillick till quarter 
day 5 not a shot in the locker till Wednesday. Ei- 
ther get me some more grog, or you’ll get more 
kicks than half-pence.” 

“ You no ah money — ^jou ah no tick — how I get 
CTog, massa Cockle 1 Missy O’Bottom, she tell me, 
last quarter day, no pay whole bill ; she not half 
like it ; she say you d — n deceiver, and no trust 
more.” 

‘‘Confounckthe old hag! Would you believe it, 
Bob, that Mrs. Rowbottom has wanted to grapple 
with me these last two years — wants to make me 
landlord of the Goose and Pepper-box, taking her 
as a fixture with the premises. I suspect 1 should 
be the goose and she the pepper-box : but we nev- 
er could shape that course. In the firstplace there’s too 
much of her 5 and, in the next, there’s too much of 
me. I explained this to the old lady as well as I 
could, and she sw'elled up as big as a balloon, say- 
ing that when people were really attached, they 
never attached any weight to such trifling obsta- 
cles.” 

“ But you must have been sweet upon her. 
Cockle ?” 

“ Nothing more than a little sugar to take the 
nauseous taste of my long bill out of her mouth. 
As for the love part of the story, that was all her 
own, 1 never contradict a lady, because it’s not po-‘ 
lite ; but since I explained, the old woman has 
huffed, and won’t trust me half a quarter,— will she, 
Moonshine ?” 

“ No, sar. When I try talk her over, and make 
promise, she say dat all moonshine. But, sar, I try 
’gain — 1 tink I know how.” And Moonshine dis- 
appeared, leaving us in the dark as to what his 
plans might be. 

“ I wonder you never did marry. Cockle,” 1 ob- 
served. 

You would not w'onder if you knew all. I must 


262 


MOONSHINE. 


say, that once, and once only, I was very near it. 
And to whom do you think it was 1 — a woman of 
color.” 

“ A black woman 1 ” 

''Not half black, only a quarter, — what they call 
a quadroon in the West Indies. But, thank Heav- 
en 1 she refused me.” 

" Refused you ! Hang it Cockle, I never thought 
that you had been refus^ by a woman of color.” 

*' 1 was, though. You shall hear hov? it happened. 
She had been the quadroon wife (you know what 
that means) of a planter of the name of Guiness j 
he died, and not only bequeathed her her liberty, 
but also four good houses in Port Royal, and two 
dozen slaves. He had been dead about two years, 
and she was about thirty, when I first knew her. 
She was very rich, for she had a good income and 
spent nothing, except in jewels and dress to deck 
out her own person, which certainly was very hand- 
some, even at that time, for she never had had any 
family. Well, if I was not quite in love with her, 
I was with her houses and her money 5 and I used 
to sit in her veranda and talk sentimental. One 
day I made my proposal. ' Massa Cockle,’ said 
she, 'dere tw'o ting I not like ; one is, I not like 
your name. ’Pose I ’cept your offer, you must 
change your name.’ 

" ' Suppose you accept my offer, mistress Guiness, 
you’ll change your name. I don’t know how 1 am 
to change mine,’ I replied. 

" ' I make ’quiry massa Cockle, and I find that by 
act of parliament you get anoder name 1’ 

" ‘ An act of parliament !’ I cried. 

" ' Yes, sar ; and I pay five hundred gold Joe ’fore 
I hear people call me missy Cockle, — dat shell fish,’ 
said she, and she turned up her nose. 

'* ‘ Humph !” said I, ' and pray what is the next 
thi ou wish ?’ 



>e Oder ting, sar, is, you no ab coat am arms. 


MOONSHINE. 


263 


no ab seal to your watch, wid bird and beast 'pon 
'em ; now pose you promise me dat you take Oder 
name, and buy um coat am arms 3 den, sar, I take 
de matter into 'sideration.' 

“ ‘ Save yourself the trouble, ma'am,' said I, 
jumping up 3 ' my answer is short, — I'll see you and 
your whole generation hanged first !' " 

'' Well, that was a very odd sort of a wind-up to 
a proposal 3 but here comes Moonshine," The 
black entered the room, and put a full bottle down 
on the table. 

“ Dare it is, sar," said he, grinning. 

Well done. Moonshine, now I forgive you 3 but 
how did you manage it ?" 

Me tell you all de tory, sar, — first I see missy 
O’ Bottom, and I say, 'How you do, how you find 
yourself dis morning ? Massa come 1 tink, by-and- 
by, but he almost 'fraid,' I say : she say, ' What he 
'fraid for?’ ‘ He tink you angry, — not like see him 
— no lub him any more 3 he very sorry, very sick at 
'art — he very much in lub wid you.’ " 

" The devil you did !’’ roared Cockle 3 " now I 
shall be bothered again with that old woman 3 I 
wish she was moored as a buoy to the Royal 
George." 

"Massa no hear all yet. I say, ‘ Missy O’Bottom, 
'spose you no tell ? 1 tell. M[assa call for clean 
shirt dis morning, an I say, ‘ It no clean shirt day, 
sar 3’ he say, ‘ Brin" me clean shirt 3’ and den he 
put him on clean ^irt, he put him on clean duck 
trousers, and he make me brush him best blue coat. 
I say, ' What all dis for, massa V He put him hand 
up to him head, and he fetch him breath and say — 

' I 'fraid missy O’Bottom no hear me now — I nab 
no courage,' and den he sit all dress ready, and no 
go. Den he say, ' Moonshine, gib me one glass 
grog, den I hab courage.’ I go fetch bottle, an all 
grog gone — ^not one filly drop left 3 den massa fall 
down plump in him big chair, and say, ' I neber can 


264 


MOONSHIAE. 


go/ ‘ But/ say missy O’Bottom, ' whv he no send 
for some V ‘ ’Cause/ 1 say, ‘ quarter-day not come, 
— money all gone/ Den she say, ‘If your poor 
massa so very bad, den I trust you one bottel — ^j’ou 
gib my complimens, and say, I very ’appy to see 
him, and stay at home/ Den I say, ‘ Missy O’Bot- 
tom ’pose massa not come soon as he take one two 
glass grog, cut my head off/ Dat all, sar.” 

“ That’s all, is it ? A pretty scrape you have got 
me into, you scoundrel ! What’s to be done now 1” 

“ Why, let’s have a glass of grog first, Cockle,” 
replied I. “ we’ve been waiting a long while for it, 
and we’li then talk the matter over.” 

“ Bob, you’re sensible, and the old woman w’as 
no fool in sending the liquor j it requires Dutch 
courage to attack such a Dutch-built old schuyt j 
let’s get the cobwebs out of our throats, and then 
we must see how we can get out of the scrape. I 
expect that I shall pay dearly for my whistle, this 
time I wet mine. Now, what’s to be done Bob ?” 

“ I think you had better leave it to Moonshine,” 
said I. 

“ So I will. Now, sir, as you’ve got me into this 
scrape, you must get me out of it. D’ye hear ?” 

“Yes, massa Cockle, I tink, — but ab no cour- 
age.” 

“ I understand you, you sooty fellow j here, drink 
this, and see if it will brighten up your wits. He’s 
a regular turnpike, that fellow, every thing must 
pay toll.” 

“ Massa Cockle, I tell missy O’Bottom dat you 
come soon as you ab two glass grog j ’pose you 
only drink one.” 

“ That won’t do. Moonshine, for I’m just mixing 
my second ; you must find out something better.” 

“ One glass grog, massa, gib no more dan one 
thought,— ^at you ab.” 

“ Well, then, here’s another. Now recollect be- 
fore you drink it, you are to get me out of this 


MOONSHINE. 


265 


scrape ; if not, you get into a scrape, for I'll beat 
you as white as snow.” 

“ 'Pose you wash nigger white, you no mangle 
him white, massa Cockle,” added Moonshine. 

“ The fellow's ironing me. Bob, ar'nt he ?” said 
Cockle, laughing. “ Now, before you drink, recol- 
lect the conditions.” 

“ Drink first, sar — make sure of dat,” replied 
Moonshine, swallowing off the brandy 5 “ tink about 
it afterwards. Eh ! I ab it,” cried Moonshine, who 
disappeared, and Cockle and I continued in conver- 
sation over our grog, which to sailors is acceptable 
in any one hour in the twenty-four. About ten 
minutes afterward, Cockle perceived Moonshine in 
the little front garden. “ There’s that fellow. Bob j 
what is he about ?” 

“ Only picking a nosegay, I believe,” replied 1, 
looking out of the window. 

“ The rascal — he must be picking all my chrys- 
anthemums. Stop him, Bob.” 

But Moonshine vaulted over the low pales, and 
there was no stopping him. It was nearly an hour 
before he returned 5 and when he came in, we 
found that he was dressed out in his best, looking 
quite a dandy, and with some of his master's finest 
flowers, in a large nosegay, sticking in his waist- 
coat. 

All right, sar, all right ; dat last grog gib me 
fine idee— you neber ab more trouble 'bout missy 
O'Bottom.” 

'MVell, let's hear,” said Cockle. 

I dress myself bery 'pruce, as you see, massa, 
I take nosegay — ” 

** Yes, I see that, and be hanged to you.” 

Neber mind, massa Cockle. I say to missy 
O'Bottom, Massa no able come, he be sorry, so 
he send me.' ' Well,' she say, ' what you ab to say ? 
— sit down. Moonshine j you bery nice man.' Den 
I say, ‘ Massa Cockle lub you bery much 5 he tink 


266 


MOONSHINE. 


all day how he make you ’appy; den he say, ‘Missy 
O’Bottom very fine ’oman, make very fine wife.’ 
Den missy 0’6ottom say, ‘ Top a moment/ and she 
bring a bottle from the cupboard, and me drink 
something did make ‘tomach feel really warm, and 
den she say, “ Moonshine, what you massa say V 
Den I say, ‘ Massa say you fine ’oman, make good 
wife / but he shake um head, and say, ‘ I am bery 
old man, no good for nothing ; I tink aJl day how I 
make her ’appy, and I find out — Moonshine, you 
young man, you ’andsome feller, you good servant, 
I not like you go away, but I tink you make missy 
O’Bottom very fine ’usband 5 so I not care for my- 
self ; you go to missy O'Bottom, and tell I send 
you 5 dat 1 part wid you, and gib you to her for 
’usband.” 

Cockle and I burst out laughing. “ Well, what 
did Mrs. Rowbottom say to that ?” 

“ She jump up, and try to catch me by de hair, 
but I bob my head, and she miss. Den she say, 
‘You filthy black rascal, you tell you massa, ’pose 
he eber come here, I break his white bald pate 5 
and ’pose you eber come here, I smash you woolly 
black skull.’ Dat all, massa Cockle 5 you see all 
right now, and I quite dry wid talking.” 

“ All right, do you call it ? I never meant to 
quarrel with the old woman j what do ye think, 
Bob — is it all right 1” 

“ Why, you must either have quarrelled with her, 
or married her ; that’s clear.” 

“ Well, then, I’m clear of her, and so it’s all 
right. It aint every man who can get out of matri- 
mony, by sacrificing a nosegay and two glasses of 
grog.” 

“ Tree glasses, massa Cockle,” said Moonshine. 

“ Well, three glasses ; here it is, you dog, and 
its dog cheap, too. Thank God, next Wednesday 
is quarter day. Bob, you muut dine with me — cut 
the service for to-day.’’ 


MOONSHINE. 


267 


“ With all my heart/' replied I, “ and I’ll salve 
my conscience by walking the beach all night; but. 
Cockle, look here; there’s but a drop in the bottle, 
and you have no more. I am like you, with a clean 
swept hold. You acknowledge the difficulty.” 

It stares me in the face. Bob ; what must be 
done ?” 

“ I’ll tell you — in the first place what have you 
for dinner ?’’ 

‘‘ Moonshine, what have we got for dinner ?” 

Dinner, sar ? me not yet tink abcnit dinner. 
What you like to ab, sar ?” 

“ What have we got in the house. Moonshine ?” 

‘‘Let me see, sar: first place we ab very fine 
piece picklum pork ; den we hab picklum pork ; 
and den — let me tink — den we hab — we hab pick- 
lum pork, sar.” 

“ The long and the short of it is. Bob, that we 
have nothing but a piece of pickled pork. Can you 
dine off that ?” 

“Can a duck swim. Cockle ?” 

“ Please, sar, we ab plenty pea for dog-baddy " 
said Moonshine. 

“ Well, then. Cockle, as all that is required is to 
put the pot on the fire, you can probably spare 
Moonshine, after he has done that, and we will look 
to the cookery ; start him off with a note to Mr. 
Johns, and he can bring back a couple of bottles 
from my quarters.” 

“Really dat very fine tought, massa Farran; I 
put in pork, and den I go and come back in one 
nour.” 

“ That you never will, Mr. Moonshine ; what’s 
o’clock now 1 Mercy on us, how time flies in your 
company, Cockle ; it is nearly four o’clock ; it will 
be dark at six.” 

“Never mind, sar, me always hab moonshine 
whereber I go,” said the black, showing his teeth. 

“ It will take two hours to boil the pork. Bob j 


268 


MOONSHINE. 


that fellow has been so busy this morning that he 
has quite forgot the dinner.’^ 

'' All you business, massa Cockle.’^ 

“ Very true ; but now start as soon as you can, 
and come back as soon as you can ; here’s the note.” 

Moonshine took the note, looked at the direction 
as if he could read it, and in a few minutes he was 
seen to depart. 

“ And now. Cockle,” said I, “ as Moonshine will 
be gone some time, suppose you spin us a yarn, to 
pass away the time.” 

“ I’ll tell you what, Bob, I am not quite so good 
at that as I used to be. I’ve an idea that when my 
pate became bald, my memory oozed away by in- 
sensible perspiration.” 

‘‘ Never mind, you must have something left — 
you can’t be quite empty.” 

“ No, but my tumbler is ; so I’ll just fill that up, 
and then I’ll tell you how it was that I came to go 
to sea.” 

“ The very thing that I should like to hear above 
all others.” 

“ Well, then, you must know that, like cockles 
in general, I was born on the sea-shore, just a 
quarter of a mile out of Dover, towards Shaks- 
peare’s cliff. My father was a fisherman by profes- 
sion, and a smuggler by practice ; all was fish that 
came to his net ; but his cottage was small, he was 
supposed to be very poor, and a very bad fisher- 
man — for he seldom brought home many 5 but tliere 
was a reason for that, he very seldom put his nets 
overboard. His chief business lay in taking out of 
vessels coming down Channel, goods which were 
shipped and bonded for exportation, and running 
them on shore again. You know, Bob, that there 
are many articles which are not permitted to enter, 
even upon paying duty ; and when these goods, 
such as silks, etc., are seized or, taken in prizes, 
they are sold for exportation. Now, it was tlien the 


MOONSHINE. 


269 


custom for vessels to take them on board in the 
river, and run them on shore as they went down 
the Channel 5 and the fishing-boats were usually 
employed for this service. My father was a well 
known hand for this kind of work ; for, not being 
suspected, he was always fortunate ; of course, had 
he once been caught, they would have had their 
eyes upon him, after he had suffered his punish- 
ment. Now, the way my father used to manage 
was this : there was a long tunnel-drain from some 
houses used as manufactories, about a hundred 
yards above his cottage,which extended out into the 
sea at low water mark, and which passed on one 
side of our cottage. My father had cut from a cel- 
lar in the cottage into the drain, and as it was large 
enough for a man to kneel down in, he used to 
come in at low water with his coble, and make fast 
the goods, properly secured from the wet and dirt 
in tarpaulin bags, to a rope, which led from the cel- 
lar to the sea, through the drain. When the water 
had flowed sufficiently to cover the mouth of the 
drain, he then threw the bags overboard,and secur- 
ing the boat, went to the cottage, hauled up the ar- 
ticles, and secured them too : d’ye understand ? My 
father had no one to assist him but my brother, who 
was a stout fellow, seven years older than myself, 
and my mother, who used to give a helping hand 
when required : and thus did he keep his own coun- 
sel and grow rich; when all was right, he got his 
boat over into the harbor, and having secured her, 
he came home as innocent as a lamb. I was then 
about eight or nine years old, and went with my 
father and brother in the coble ; for she required 
three hands at least, to manage her properly, and, 
like a tin pot, although not very big, I was very use 
ful. Now, it so happened, that my father had no 
tice that a brig, laying in Dover harbor, would sail 
the next day, and that she had on board a quantity 
of lacc and silks, purchased at the Dover custom- 


270 


MOONSHINE. 


house for exportation, which he was to put on 
shore again, to be sent up to London. The send- 
ing up to London we had nothing to do with ; the 
agent at Dover managed all thatj we only left the 
articles at his house, and then received the money 
on the nail. We went to the harbor, where we 
found the brig hauling out — so we made all haste to 
get aw’ay before her. It blew fresh Irom the north- 
ward and eastward, and there was a good deal of 
sea running. As we were shoving out, the Lon- 
don agent, a jolly little round-faced fellow, in black 
clothes, and a bald white head, called to us, and 
said that he wanted to board a vessel in the offing, 
and whether we w’ould take him. This was all a 
ruse, as he intended to go on board the brig with us 
to settle matters, and then return in the pilot boat. 
Well, we hoisted our jib, drew aft our foresheet, 
and were soon clear of the harbor; but \ve found 
that there was a devil of a sea running, and more 
w'ind than we bargained for. The brig came out of 
the harbor with a flowing sheet, and we lowered 
down the foresail to reef it — father and brother bu- 
sy about that, while I stood at the helm, when the 
agent said to me, ' When do you mean to make a 
voyage V’ ' Sooner than father thinks for,’ said I, 
Tor I want to see the world.’ It was sooner than 
I thought for, too, as you shall hear. As soon as 
the brig was well out, we ran down to her, and 
with some difficulty my father and the agent got 
on board, for the sea was high and cross the tide 
setting against the wind. My brother and I were 
left in the boat to follow in the w^ake of the brig; 
but as my brother was casting off* the rope forward, 
his leg caught in the bight, and into the sea he 
went. However, they hauled him on board, leaving 
me alone in the coble. It was not of much conse- 
quence, as I could manage to follow before the 
wind, under easy sail, without assistance; so I 
kept her in the wake of the brig, both of us run* 


MOONSHINE. 


271 


ning nearly before it at the rate offive miles an Hour, 
waiting till my father should have made up his 
packages of a proper size to walk through the tun- 
nel drain. 

The Channel was full of ships, for the west’ardly 
winds had detained them for a long time. I had 
followed the brig about an hour, when the agent 
went on shore in a pilot-boat, and I expected my 
father would soon be ready ; then the wind veered 
more towards the southward, with dirt j at last it 
came on foggy, and I could hardly see the brig.and, 
as it rained hard and blew harder, 1 wished that my 
father was ready, for my arms ached with steering 
the coble for so long a while. I could not leave 
the helm, so I steered on at a black lump, as the 
brig looked tlirough the fog: at last, the fog was so 
thick that I could not see a yard beyond the boat, 
and I hardly knew how to steer. I began to be 
frightened 5 tired and cold, and hungry I certainly 
was. Well, I steered on for more than an hour, 
when the fog cleared up a little, and then I saw 
the stern of the brig just before me. My little 
heart jumped with delight j and 1 expected that she 
would round-to immediately, and that my father 
w'ould praise me for my conduct 5 and, what was 
still more to the purpose, that I should get something 
to eat and drink. But no ; she steered on right 
dow'n Channel, and I followed for more than an 
hour longer, when it came on to blow very hard, 
and I could scarcely manage the boat — she pulled 
my little arms off, and I w'as quite exhausted. The 
weather now cleared up, and I could make out the 
vessel plainly : and 1 immediately discovered that 
it was not the brig, but a bark w'hich 1 got hold of 
in the fog, so that I did not knoAv what to do : but 
I did not as most boys of nine yeags old would have 
done wl’,0 were frightened, — 1 sat down and cried, 
still, licwover, keeping the tiller in my hand, and 
stee ring as well as I could. At la.st, I could hold 


272 


MOONS HINK. 


it no longer 5 I ran forward, let go the fore and jib 
haulyards, and hauled down the sails ; drag them 
into the boat I could not, and there 1 was, like a 
young bear adrift in a washing tub. I looked all 
around me, and there were no vessels near 5 the 
bark had left me two miles astern, it was blowing a 
gale from the S. E., with a heavy sea 5 the gulls and 
sea birds wheeled and screamed in the storm 5 and 
as I thought, when they came close to me, looked 
at me with their keen eyes, as much as to say, 
‘ What the devil are you doing there V The boat 
w-as as light as a cork, and although she was tossed 
and rolled about so that I was oldiged to hold on, 
she shipped no water oi' any consequence 3 for the 
jib in the water forw'ard had brought her head to- 
wind, and acted as a sort ol' lloating anchor. At 
last there Avas nothing in sight, so I laid dow'u in the 
bottom of the boat and lell asleep. It w'as daylight 
before I awoke, and then 1 got up and looked arcund 
me. It blew harder than ever 3 and, although there 
were some vessels at a distance, scudding before 
the gale, they did not mind or perhaps see me. 1 
sat very melancholy the whole day 3 the tears ran 
down my cheeks 3 my eyes were full of salt from 
the spray 3 I saw at last nothing but the roaring and 
trembling waves. I prayed every prayer I knew, 
that is, I said the I.ord's lA-ayer, the Belief, and as 
much of the Catechism as I could recollect. It 
rained in toi-rents — I was wet, starving, and misera- 
bly cold. At night I again fell asleep from exhaus- 
tion. The morning broke again, and the sunshonej 
the gale was breaking off, and I felt more cheered 3 
but I was now ravenous from hunger, as well as 
choking from thirst, and I was so weak that I could 
scarcely stand. I looked round me every now and 
then, and lay down again. In the afternoon I saw 
a largo vessel standing right for me 3 this gave mo 
courage and strength. 1 stood itp and waved my 
hat, and they saw me. The sea was etill running 


MOONSHINE. 


V» 

very high, but the wind had gone down. Sheroug- 
ded-to so as to bring me under her lee. Send a 
boat she could not, but the sea bore her down upon 
me, and I was soon close to her. Men in the 
chains were ready with ropes, and I knew that this 
was my only chance. At last, a very heavy sea 
bore her right down upon the boat, lurching over on 
her beam ends, her main chains struck the boat and 
sent her down, while I was seized by the scuff of 
the neck by two seamen, and bore aloft by them as 
the vessel returned to the weather-roll. They 
hauled me in, and I was safe. It was neck or noth- 
ing with me then, — wasn’t it. Bob ?” 

“ It was indeed a miraculous escape. Cockle.” 

Well, as soon as they had given me something 
to eat, I told my story ; and it appeared that she 
was an East- Indiaman running down Channel, 
and not likely to meet with any thing to send me 
back again. The passengers, especially the ladies, 
were very kind to me : and as there was no help 
for it, why, I took my first voyage to the East In- 
dies." 

And your father and your brother ?” 

** Why, when I met them, which I did about six 
years afterwards, I found that they had been in 
much the same predicament, having lost the coble, 
and the weather being so bad that they could not 
get on shore again. As there was no help for it, 
they took their first voyage to the West Indies: so 
there was a dispersion of a united family — two 
went West, and one went East, coble went down, 
and mother after waiting a month or two, and sup- 
posing father dead, went off with a soldier. All 
dispersed by one confounded gale of wind from 
northward and eastward : so that’s the way that I 
went to sea. Bob. And now it’s time that Moon- 
shine was back.” 

But Moonshine kept us waiting for some time ; 
when he returned, it was quite dark, and wo had 
18 


274 


MOONSHINE. 


lighted candles, anxiously waiting for him j for not 
only was the bottle empty, but we were hungry. 
At last we heard a conversation at the gate, and 
Moonshine made his appearance with the bottles 
of spirits, and appeared also himself to be also in 
high spirits. The pork and peas pudding were soon 
on the table. We dined heartily, and were sitting 
over the latter part of the first bottle, in conversa- 
tion, it being near upon the eleventh hour, when 
we heard a noise at the gate,— K)bserved some fig- 
ures of men who stayed a short time, and then dis- 
appeared. The door opened, and Moonshine went 
out. In a few seconds he returned, bringing in his 
arms an anker of spirits, which he laid on the floor, 
grinning so wide that his head appeared half off; 
without saying a word, he left the room, and re- 
turned with another. 

Why. what the devil’s this?” cried Cockle. 

Moonsnine made no answer, but went out and 
in until he had brought six ankers in, one alter 
another, which he placed in a row on the floor. 
He then shut the outside door, bolted it, came in, 
and seating himself on one of the tubs, laughed to 
an excess which compelled him to hold his sides ; 
during which Cockle and I were in a state of aston- 
ment and suspense. 

“ Where tne devil did all these come from V 
cried Cockle, actually getting out of his easy chair. 

“ Tell me, sir, or by — ” 

I tell you all, massa Cockle : you find me 
better friend dan missy O’Bottom. Now you ab 
plenty, and neber need scold Moonshine ’pose ho 
take lilly drap. I get all this present to you, mas- 
sa Cockle.” 

I felt a great degree of anxiety, and pressed 
Moonshine to tell his story. 

“ I tell you all, sar j when I come back wid de 
two bottle, I meet plenty men wid de tubs j dey 
say, ‘ D— -n you, who be you V I say, ‘ I come from 


MOONSHINE. 


275 


station j bring Massa two bottle, * and I show um. 
Den dey say, ‘ Where you massa V and I say, ‘ At 
um house at Ryde.' (Den dey tink dat you my 
massa, massa Farranj) so dey say, ‘ Yes, we know 
dat, — we watch him dere j but now you tell, so we 
beat you dead.' Den I say, ‘ What for dat ? massa 
like drink, why you no gib massa some tub, and den 
he neber say noting, only make fuss some time, 
'cause of admiralty.' Den dey say, ‘ You sure of 
dat V and I say, ‘ Quite sure massa neber say one 
word.' Den dey talk long while ; last, dey come 
and say, ‘ You come wid us and show massa housel' 
So two men come wid me, and when dey come to 
gate I say, ‘ Dis massa house when he live at Ryde, 
and dere you see massa}' — and I point to massa 
Cockle, but dey see massa Farran : so dey say, ' All 
very good} three, four hour more, you nnd six tub 
here } tell your massa dat every time run tub, he al- 
way hab six^ den dey go away ; den dey come back, 
leave tub } dat all, massa." 

‘‘You rascal!" exclaimed 1, rising up, “so you 
have compromised me 1 Why I shall lose my com- 
mission if found out." 

“No, sar} nobody wrong but de smuggler : dey 
make a lilly mistake } case you brought to court- 
martial, I gib evidence, and den I clear you." 

“ But what must we do with these tubs, Cockle?" 
S 2 ud I, appealing to him. 

“ Do, Bob ? why they are a present — a very 
welcome one, and a very handsome one, in the 
bargain. I shall not keep them, I pledge you my 
word } let that satisfy you } they shall all be fairly 
entered.’’ 

“ Upon that condition, Cockle," I replied, “ 1 
shall of course not give information of you." (I 
knew full well what he meant by saying he would 
not keep them.) 

“ How 1 do, massa Cockle ?" said Moonshine, 
with a grave face } “ I take um to the custom-house 
to-night or to-morrow morning ?" 


MOONSHINE. 




276 

To-morrow, Moonshine,” replied Cockle : "at 
present just put them out of sight.” 

I did not think it prudent to make any further 
inquiries ; but I afterwards discovered that the 
smugglers, true to their word, and still in error, con- 
tinued to leave six tubs at old Cockle’s garden 
whenever they succeeded in running a cargo, which, 
notwithstanding all our endeavors, they constant- 
ly did. One piece of information I gained from 
this affair, which was, the number of cargoes which 
were run compared to those which were seized 
during the remainder of the time I was on that sta- 
tion, and found it to be in proportion of ten to one. 
The cargoes run were calculated by the observation 
of old Cockle, who, when I called upon him, used 
to say quietly, " I shouldn’t wonder if they did not 
run a cargo last night, Bob, in spite of all your vig- 
ilance : was it very dark ?” 

" On the contrary,” replied I, looking at the de- 
mure face of the uegro, ** 1 suspect it was Moon- 
IBIN£.” 


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